


sweet just like frustration

by Mis_Shapes



Series: sweet just like frustration [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Author knows nothing about sailing and apologises, Background Relationships, Beach Holidays, Co-workers, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Lust, M/M, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Affair, Past Robb Stark/Amerei Frey, Phone Sex, Pining, Possessive Robb Stark, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sailing, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Spanking, Swimming Pools, you read that right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mis_Shapes/pseuds/Mis_Shapes
Summary: Theon had watched him with wry amusement when he’d broken things off. Or tried to break things off at least. At that point, the fact that they worked together was one of the least of his concerns. What was an illicit secret relationship between coworkers next to an affair? Truth be told, you could barely have called it a relationship. More a series of steamy hookups in which Robb had learnt more about himself than he had in the rest of his other liaisons combined.He’d given him the same exact look the moment they realised they’d been roped into going on the same work getaway together.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Series: sweet just like frustration [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007379
Comments: 57
Kudos: 62





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evax3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evax3/gifts).



> With thanks to the lovely [Evax3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evax3) for the prompt, and [Lydia_Martin_trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lydia_Martin_trash/pseuds/Lydia_Martin_trash) for being a wonderful beta.
> 
> Title from Ice Cream - MIKA (...yep)

**Robb**

Theon had watched him with wry amusement when he’d broken things off. Or tried to break things off at least. At that point, the fact that they worked together was one of the least of his concerns. What was an illicit secret relationship between coworkers next to an affair? Truth be told, you could barely have called it a relationship. More a series of steamy hookups in which Robb had learnt more about himself than he had in the rest of his other liaisons combined. 

He’d given him the same exact look the moment they realised they’d been roped into going on the same getaway together. Unfortunately, the pros that came with Theon working in a different team also meant that he wasn’t clued into this kind of information. Still has to be said that the benefit of not having to see him all day every day and not having colleagues that knew them equally well, who might have spotted something array, outweighed this ordinarily. Only, now, they’re faced with a week away together.

Robb should have known things were about to go wrong the minute he’d walked in on Olyvar and Patrek discussing plans in the office kitchen. Of course Patrek wouldn’t have decided to go away without at least trying to have Theon come along too. But it was only when he joined the check-in line and heard Kyra laughing away that it dawned on him, and sure enough, when he turned, there he was with that fucking arrogant smirk tugging on his lips.

“Ah,” says Olyvar, “have you met Theon and Kyra yet? They work downstairs in Creative.”

“Mmm, yes. We met at the Christmas party, I think?”

Theon nods. He doesn’t appear to be surprised in any way by this development. Casually, he draws in his suitcase and sits on the top, settling in for the wait. His legs are so fucking long, its impossible for Robb not to take them in and the way they part over the corner of the case, to gain more stability. “Yeah, Patrek introduced us.”

Olyvar spots the other newcomers just arriving and weaves through their bags to get to Willas and Patrek emerging at the turning doors. 

“So, you’re a writer?” Kyra asks while pulling back her hair. “Which section?”

“World.”

She looks him up and down and then tells with a smile while looking through her lashes, “I kinda thought you might be in Sport.”

He might not have thought anything of it if it weren’t for Theon biting his lip and looking down to disguise his silent laugh.

“No, more of a doer than an analyser,” he says, feeling the heat on his cheeks. “You know, don’t mix business and pleasure.” He can feel the moment Theon looks up, first to him and then Kyra.

“That’s a shame.” Kyra smirks, glancing back after their meaningful shared look, and winks at him. “Hey, can I leave my bag with you? I’m just going to go fetch a bottle of water. Would either of you like anything?” she asks and leaves when they both decline the offer.

“Wow,” Theon breathes once she’s out of earshot. “Smooth.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“So you’re saying you do?”

“No, I mean that’s not what I meant by it.”

“I see,” says Theon, then looks away and sucks his teeth, watching as Olyvar shepherds the others over.

This is ridiculous. He can’t do this. He can’t spend an entire week around him without being driven mad. He can still hear him moan, gasp, cry out. He can see his hands grip sheets, sinks and desks, Robb’s own arms. The moment they first kissed in someone’s unlocked office, shrouded in darkness, replays over and over in his mind. It’s not a particularly proud moment of his, forever tainted by the heavy weight of the ring on his finger.

He almost hopes something will be wrong; his ticket or passport perhaps. Fuck, cancel the plane for all he cares. But it all goes as smoothly as one might imagine. Well, as smoothly as it can when the mere presence of a person has you acting like a nervous wreck in security. Dropping the contents of pockets onto the bloody floor.

**Theon**

“Pretty fit, isn’t he? Do we think he’s straight?” Kyra asks, knelt up slightly and peering back over the seats towards where Robb is sat once they’ve settled into their seats and are forced to put everything on aeroplane mode.

Theon glances back between headrests to catch a glimpse of auburn curls and hears a merry laugh. “He’s married,” he tells them, forcing his voice to be as even as possible, then adds, conscious that he’s said this a little too quickly, “I think.”

“Technically,” Patrek pipes in.

Theon and Kyra question in unison with a small discrepancy in intonation, “technically?” Drowned God, he needs to get himself under control.

“Heard he was going through a divorce. Anyway, it’s not worth thinking about. You really don’t want management catching wind of anything going out.” He pauses, digging out a packet of mints from his bag and offering them each one, less invested in the marital status of their coworker, then tries to get a look himself. “I don’t see it myself.”

Kyra scoffs. “You wouldn’t,” she tells him then turns to Theon for back up when Patrek just shrugs. 

He’d love to give them his unbridled opinion. In fact, in this position this time last year he might have already stated an interest to avoid any awkward situations. Instead, he settles for, “he’s certainly something,” and takes one of the offered mints.

This must satisfy her because she raises her eyebrows at Patrek in an ‘I told you so’ kind of way and settles back into her seat. 

“We’re supposed to be concentrating on work.” Patrek sighs, he always has been a little more practically minded. “You’ll only get yourself into an awkward situation when we get back.”

Patrek is mad if he thinks much work is going to get done. A free holiday is how the rest of them see it, in exchange for some PR, a few photos, and light research.

“He doesn’t work on our floor. It can’t be so bad,” Kyra reasons.

Little does she know the number of times he’s seen Robb hang back from getting on the same lift or walk straight back out of the coffee shop on the ground floor after spotting him there. This is exactly why these kinds of things are discouraged. 

He was sure Robb would have cracked by now. That he’d have had him in one of the toilets that are mercifully of the tiny room variety rather than actual cubicles. At first the longer they went the more he’d fantasised, the more he felt the thrill of it; knowing all the while what Robb could get like after just a few days. If he’s not with Ami then...

Fuck, he needs to nip the growing interest in the bud while he still can. Remembering they’d both gone to a film preview a few nights ago, he asks about it and listens to them chatter, but his mind refuses to budge from Robb’s plump lips and the feel of callused hands against his skin commandeering his body.

Two hours in, he shimmies past Kyra sleeping with her head on Patrek’s shoulder, and Patrek himself, eyes closed but fingers tapping to the music playing in his ears until Theon taps his leg.

Stood outside the toilets, Theon watches as Robb leaves his seat and appears in the aisle. He spots Theon and immediately considers going back the way he came, but the idea of putting Olyvar out to get past again without even relieving himself must be too much. Or perhaps he feels the need to get past this himself.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Robb mumbles on reaching his side in the queue.

He has no patience with this. “Some part of you had to know.” 

The temptation to study Robb’s ring finger is too strong, he steals a look and sure enough, it's bare but for the light tan line and the smooth imprint. Recent, then.

Noticing the interest, Robb’s other hand comes to feel the area as he had previously twisted the ring when anxious, suddenly self-conscious.

“I suppose.” He then rubs his hand across his face and scratches his short beard.

“It’s true then?” Theon asks, inclining his head down.

“Yeah, it’s true.”

“How did she take it?”

Robb shakes his head. “It wasn’t me… and I never had the guts, not even after she admitted her own guilt at doing the same… Well, not the exact same. That would’ve been quite a feat,” he says, referring to the crack in the closet door that is his own admission to himself.

Theon can’t help but smile, and Robb joins him in it. Inside he simultaneously breathes a sigh of relief right as his heart lurches at the sight. 

“How did you take it?”

“My ego suffered,” he admits, and Theon spots the light blush under the freckles he loves, “but it saved me some trauma.”

The lock on one of the doors flicks over to vacant and they share one more awkward smile. Maybe this holiday will be more fun than he’d anticipated.

**Robb**

_Most of all I just wished it had happened sooner_ , Robb had almost said earlier that day in response to Theon. The what-ifs haunt him, just seeing him is almost unbearable, and it almost impossible to avoid him. It had been tempting to start applying for jobs at other publications.

Now he’s sat watching him laughing with Patrek about something he can’t quite hear on account of Olyvar and Willas trying to draw him into a conversation about someone’s autobiography he might have some thoughts on if he didn’t have a vested interest in Theon’s fingers peeling the label on his beer bottle, or his lips around it… or the way his throat moves when he swallows. He needs to get a grip or this is going to be uncomfortable.

“So,” Kyra interrupts his thoughts after the other two have given up on him, her chin set in the palm of her hand, and asks with a slight tilt of her head, “why World?”

She’s objectively stunning and she may be different in almost every physical characteristic to Theon, soft where he is sharp, but the similarities are there to see in the way her hazel eyes make him feel like the only one there and the smile playing on her lips.

“Ah, well… I studied politics, but I felt a little restrained, I guess. I meet all kinds of people, visit all kinds of places.”

“That does sound great,” she smiles and straightens a little, letting her red hair fall around her. “I guess it might not be quite as exotic here as you’re used to?”

“It has its advantages.” He sits back in his chair, finger running through the condensation on his glass. “And I don’t usually have the company of friends.”

“There is that,” she concedes, looking to Theon and Patrek with a fond look on her face.

Robb follows her line of sight and winds up staring once more. “How long have you worked together?” he asks whilst attempting to tell whether the pair of them are flirting. 

Theon is doing a good deal of the moves he recognises; he bites on his lip, pushes his raven black hair back, leans up against the back of the chair with his elbow propped on the top just as Kyra has. It broadens his chest and pulls the shirt he’s wearing tight against him.

“Oh, getting on for five years now,” she answers right as Theon meets his eyes for a split second. 

Five years of having anyone with any plausible minor excuse drawn into their office by compulsion. He’d almost been tempted himself a time or two.

“What’s this?” Patrek asks in a reprise of their conversation.

“I was just saying that I’ve had to put up with you two for five whole years,” she teases him.

He puckers his lips and mimes a kiss with a wink. “I love you too.”

“I know, babe,” Kyra says and laughs as she leans back towards Patrek to kiss him on the cheek, then asks the whole table, “who wants a drink?” After a few take ups on the offer she takes Patrek away with her to help her carry them back.

Left sat with Olyvar’s back now to him as he talks with Willas, Robb gives Theon a small smile and takes a gulp of his drink. 

Theon slides into Patrek’s seat, and gestures to Robb to take Kyra’s.

He probably shouldn’t if he has any chance of navigating this getaway without creating more problems, but Theon’s charm pulls him in like a magnet.

“Such a flirt,” drawls Theon with a wink.

Robb splutters on a sip of his drink. “I wasn't - “

“I’m joking.” At this angle the shirt gapes between the buttons and where it opens a few buttons down, and Robb finds himself taking in the bare skin and tattoos he can just about make out. Theon clears his throat. “You look good. This suits you.” He, much to Robb’s relief, touches his own cheeks in reference to the beard, but he goes one further. Setting his forearm on Robb’s chair, he leans in to whisper, “I wonder what it would feel like against my thighs.”

The tips of Robb’s ears burn. He can’t help but double-check his friends aren’t listening. 

“You can’t be saying that,” he mutters despite the immediate butterflies it gives him.

“And why not?”

“Because!” Robb tells him as though that in itself lists all the reasons because. Gods, he smells good though.

Theon’s laugh is crystalline and Robb catches the metallic glint of his tongue piercing. “Because?”

“First off, I’m only just coming out of a marriage. Second, we work together. And I’m not you know…” Robb waits for Theon to show any sign of understanding what he means. “Out out.” He leaves off the admission that the past few months have been hell.

“One, all the more reason. I’d say get over her by getting under someone, but, well, you know very well what I mean. We both know how it goes. Two, nobody has to know, and three, _nobody has to know_.”

Robb doesn’t think his cheeks have ever been this hot. _It’s you I need to be getting over_ , is on the tip of his tongue. “Our work friends are sitting right there, including, might I add, Olyvar.”

“What? Are you looking for the upper hand in the settlement or something?” Theon asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“No - “

“Then,” he begins, voice low, “I really don’t see the problem.”

Robb chews his lip and spots Theon’s friends heading back towards them.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Theon whispers just before they get too close and he sits up straight to move away from Robb. “Shuffle over,” he instructs. Robb does as he bids and Theon slips in the now vacant seat and he finds himself back sitting next to Olyvar, but with temptation sat to the other side.

Theon says no more on the subject, but his knee brushes his at every conceivable opportunity. Even whilst he’s chatting with Olyvar and Willas his mind is on the electricity that courses through his veins at each touch. Each time he moves there’s a waft of his scent forcing him to think about memories he only half wishes he could forget. His laugh takes him back to those times when they tugged each other into empty rooms, and those when they were nearly caught, laughing at the rush and with nerves. And then there's the times when he’d risked going to Theon’s or to a hotel and had him laugh in the aftermath.

**Theon**

Kyra gives Theon a knowing look the minute they walk into the suite, she can barely keep her face straight. As soon as she’s snagged the room with the double bed as opposed to the twins - apparently now feeling modest around the pair of them - she nudges him while Patrek is distracted trying to make the WiFi work and suggests a smoke.

There’s a cool ocean breeze now night is upon them. He can hear gentle waves drawn up onto the beach. Leaning against the balcony’s balustrade and looking out across the pool he takes a drag. The ghost of Robb’s body beside him still lingers, taunting him.

“Sweetheart, you should’ve said something.” She laughs and takes the cigarette from him. If she only ever steals puff of his this apparently means she is not a smoker. “You know I wouldn’t have cared,” she says and hands it back to him, now with added lipstick.

Theon nips his lip lightly and smiles, trying to decide how far to let her in on the secret. “Not everyone has the same feelings about intraoffice flings as you do.”

“Pfft. Please, you can’t pull the wool over my eyes. I know you better than that..” 

That she does.

“Yeah, well, ‘You know, don’t mix business and pleasure’,” he says putting on his best Robb voice which has Kyra crack up.

“Aww, bless him,” she coos. “It was kinda cute though.”

“You just enjoy reducing people into flustered messes,” accuses Theon, and brings the fag to his lips.

“There is that…” she accepts, checking her nails. “But then, you barely had to do anything.”

Theon exhales, watching the smoke lit in the moonlight and avoiding eye contact with her, but he can’t help but smile. The truth is he’s done a fair amount to be able to have that effect with little effort.

He remembers that night at the Christmas party. Despite the clear interest from the redhead, it had taken quite some work to have him realise he was just as interested. Robb’s piercing blue eyes barely left him, taking in every movement, underneath the sweetness a clear something just waiting to be unleashed. By the time Theon pulled him out into the corridor Robb was struggling to contain himself. Robb’s hand on his lower back was like fire. He’s still surprised they made it to that fairly secluded office. He’s never been able to take Stannis sat at that desk seriously since.

“He could barely keep his eyes off you the whole way through dinner, and then,” she practically cackles, “well, you should be glad Patrek is impervious to your posturing.” They both look back inside and share a grin.

“It worked though, right?” Theon asks, flicking ash into a glass.

Kyra gives him a playful push and takes the smoke back off him. “You know very well it did. I did try to delay us a bit. Even claimed I’d asked for diet in one of the drinks to get it made again, but then Patrek’s all ‘no you didn’t’”. She tsks and takes a lung full, but she knows very well their friend is not near as conniving as she is and likely has no idea what’s going on under his nose. He barely realises subtle cues when they are directed at him by women. It’s a good job he’s good looking enough that they persist until he gets the message. Not unlike Robb really.

“Thanks, but I don’t think he’s going to go for it anyway. First off, he’s got someone from editing - _a Tyrell_ \- around, and then there’s Olyvar.” He has one last drag and has Kyra patiently waiting for an explanation, then stubs out the cigarette on the stonework before he says, “did you know he’s his ex’s uncle?”

“What? No! Fuck off.” She laughs. “Seriously?”

“Exactly,” he says pointedly and goes on to joke with a wink, pulling open the sliding door, “anyway, we should get back it before he suspects something.”

It feels good to have her in on it, even without the backstory. How long he can keep this up he doesn’t know.

Patrek is immediately motioning them over when they come in. He’s laid on his stomach facing the tv on his bed and ooches over so that Kyra can sit by him. 

“What are we watching?” Kyra asks, and takes the bottle of coke he’s drinking from him to have a swig herself.

He turns his head to look at her. “Some soap, it’s brilliant, you’ll like it, even without understanding a word of it.”

“Aww, hun, you thought of me?”

Theon shakes his head at the pair of them and climbs onto his own bed, but his mind is on anything but the argument going on on the screen. He turns his phone face down on the bedside table in hopes he will stop waiting for something from Robb. Perhaps he’d been a bit too forward.


	2. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should say... I know normally usually most of what I write just has interludes of tender smut, but I'm trying to branch out so... just bear that in mind I guess?

**Theon**

Theon wakes to the sounds of his friends talking, Kyra muffled by the sounds of the running shower whilst Patrek is presumably sat in her room so as to give Theon a little longer in bed. He listens to them discussing what they might like to do over the coming days.

“You’re so posh,” Kyra tells him through laughter in response to the suggestion of hiring a sailboat. “Of course you can sail.”

“Hey! Theon can sail too,” says Patrek, petulant.

The shower turns off. “Yes, well, I don’t think that helps your case.”

Theon smiles, Patrek should have predicted that retort.

“We grew up with the sea at our doorstep,” he argues.

“You grew up as rich kids with the sea at your doorstep.”

“Oi, I can hear you,” he shouts through to them. “You can’t be trash-talking me while I’m not able to defend myself.”

Kyra’s laugh rings through. “Will one of you poshos grab me a towel, please?”

“I will - seen as you asked so nicely,” Patrek calls, lacing his voice with sarcasm. “Theon, do you want coffee while I’m up?”

“Please,” he replies groggily and reaches for his phone.

Nothing. 

Well, not nothing. But nothing from Robb and that’s all he really cares about. 

Glutton for punishment, he opens up the messages from Robb still saved to his phone. He should have deleted them long ago, he knows this very well, but if he tries hard enough he can pretend they were only just sent. That they aren’t from months ago, and that the memories of Robb fulfilling the promises is just his very vivid imagination thinking of things to come. 

Theon vaguely registers Kyra’s, “ta” next door.

He does, however, take in the sight of the last photo received, of a shot looking down over Robb’s torso to where his hand covers his dick that has blood rush to his own. None of the photos ever pictured his face. As though no one would be able to recognise him from his physique alone. Which is fucking ridiculous with a body like that and the freckles he could read like a scanner on a QR code.

Patrek startles him when he walks in with a coffee in hand. It wasn’t the best of plans to be laid drooling over a colleague. Quickly, he locks the screen and sits up in the bed to take the drink from him, trying not to spill it all over the white sheets, which he is thankful to have covering him.

“Thanks, mate.” He blows gently onto the surface before he takes a sip and takes in Patrek’s appearance. “Been up long?”

“Nah,” Patrek shakes his head right as there's a knock at the door, but despite the bed head sandy hair he’s still rocking he’s been awake long enough to dress appropriately for the weather. He turns to answer it and shouts, “coming!”

For fucks sake, he’s barely had time to calm down before he sees Robb there in the flesh.

When the others begin to pile into the little entrance hall, Patrek pulls Kyra’s door closed and gestures for them to join Theon in the other room. Willas and Olyvar both sit on Patrek’s bed and Robb loses the chance to sit up on the sideboard to Patrek. He stands awkwardly in the doorway even when Theon draws in his legs to sit cross-legged against the headboard. Judging by Olyvar’s glances it doesn’t go unnoticed. Fuck this.

**Robb**

“I know she’s cute!” Robb exclaims after spitting out toothpaste, looking at Olyvar in the mirror's reflection. “But she’s not my type.”

“You hear this, Willas? Cute. And get this - talented, funny, and sexy is not his type.”

Even Willas, sat on a chair out in the small hall pulling on his shoes, laughs at that.

“Oh yes, have a laugh at my expense,” he says with good humour. He knows how this seems after his marriage to Amerei and they aren’t to know that while that is his type, he has some extra requirements.

Olyvar ruffles his hair with a laugh, harsh enough that Robb’s head is forced to move under his hand. “It’s just so _easy_.”

Robb can’t keep the grin from his face, despite attempting to brush his teeth between speaking. “Look, it’s too early - “

“Beg to differ,” Olly interjects with an expression that reaffirms Robb’s suspicions that his wife certainly hasn’t been waiting.

“ _And_ ,” Robb carries on, reaching for mouthwash, “I’d rather not get wrapped up in something with someone I work with.”

“Now, that’s an argument that makes sense,” calls Willas' voice.

Olyvar scoffs. “You would say that! And you,” he looks back to Robb, “you barely ever see her! I didn’t even know you knew her name until yesterday.”

“I see her enough.” Robb gives a heavy sigh. He sees _him_ enough is what he means; like a shining beacon of temptation. What happens when Theon gets bored and he has to go through all that again? What happens when they get pulled up on it by HR?

“Would still be against the rules even if he never saw her!”

Olyvar shakes his head and shares a smile with Robb in the mirror at Willas and his need to fall in line with the guidelines of his family’s business… and actually, to be a stickler for the rules in many other respects. 

When they are finally all ready, they head off down the hall to the other rooms. Robb slings his arm around Olyvar’s shoulders, encouraging him to slow down a little to let Willas walk on ahead.

“Anyway, if you think that much of her, why are you pushing me?” Robb asks quietly with a grin.

“I don’t - I’m…” Olly’s eyes dart away. Eventually, he says with a bashful smile, “I have a girlfriend.”

“What? Since when?”

He seems more embarrassed than Robb has ever seen him, which isn’t especially difficult. It’s not an emotion he’s prone to show. “A month or so.”

“You sneak!” Robb exclaims. It’s unlike Olyvar to be able to keep a secret this long. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

Olyvar shrugs. “We’re taking things slow… not quite there yet.”

“Gods,” Robb chuckles, “it's not someone from work, is it?”

“No,” Olyvar laughs along with him, “no, I met her through a friend.”

“Hmmm,” Robb peers at him with faux suspicion as Willas begins knocking on the door, then pats him on the side of the head before he takes his arm away, “ok then.”

When they get inside, the other three are nowhere near ready. Only Patrek seems in any state of dress. They catch a glimpse of Kyra in a towel before the door is closed, and Theon is still in bed, albeit with caffeine in hand.

Robb hesitates at the door to the twin bedroom when all available spots other than the foot of Theon’s bed are taken, even though Theon’s posture welcomes him to take it. He’s never seen him like this before, just waking in the morning light. It’s a crying shame he has to share it with others. And now barechested, unlike the night before he can see his body, the tattoos, and god's help him, the final piercing, without having to peek through the gaps in his clothing.

Olyvar watches him suspiciously and eyes the doorway like he imagines him to be waiting for Kyra, but there’s a very real threat he will be caught watching Theon, and it's only going to be made worse.

A couple of minutes into the argument of pool v. beach, Theon gets out of the bed and stretches out his drop dead gorgeous body, with not a care in the world about the four of them there to witness this. Though, to be fair, none of the others seem to pay any attention to this spectacle. He’s trying not to look, he really is, but it proves futile when Theon walks towards him.

“Excuse me,” he says like they are the vague acquaintances they are pretending to be just as he slips past, brushing up against Robb as he does so, and saunters into the bathroom.

Robb is sure his heart skips a beat.

When Theon reemerges, he says nothing, but places a hand gently on Robb’s hip to let him know he’s there and needs to get past. The touch still burns its impression when Theon bends to gather up his discarded jeans from the floor, pulls out a packet of cigarettes, and then takes them and the cup of coffee out onto the balcony.

Seeing him leaning on his forearms, the shape of each cheek of his perfect arse visible through the tight boxers, is enough to make anyone contemplate taking up a habit of inhaling toxins.

Worst, or perhaps best, of all is that with Theon now outside he has little choice but to sit on the bed, warm from Theon’s body, if he doesn’t want to raise further suspicion. His hand screws up the loose sheet below it. If he were alone he doubts he’d have the self-control not to bury his face in it.

-

Finally at the beach after far too long in that hotel room, Olyvar chases after the football when it lands in the water. He splashes and almost falls in his haste so as not to lose it to the waves. Then he throws it back to Robb, but the angle is misjudged and it hurtles towards where Theon and Kyra lie on towels, forcing him to dive to stop it hitting one of them.

Robb laughs when he hits the sand. Patrek’s expression is priceless, having clearly feared for their lives had it hit one of the pair of them. The spray of sand alerts them both to the goings-on, leading Theon to prop himself up on his elbow and Kyra to look up from her position laid face down.

“Sorry,” he says with a lopsided smile, laid on the sands.

“My bad!” Olyvar calls over as Robb pulls himself up, knocks off the sand, and kicks it back to Patrek.

Kyra turns over onto her back to mimic Theon’s position. She shakes her head at them, but it's in good spirits, and touches her friend’s arm, telling him something quietly, lifting up her glasses.

Whatever it is, it has Theon grinning and nodding as they watch Robb and the others. Every movement of his feels like a taunt. It was hard enough when he’d been clothed, and now here he is topless in only a pair of designer shorts. Other than the sunglasses. He brushes sand from himself, seemingly absentminded, but Robb’s mind is very much on the way his hand skirts over his body. 

“Robb?” Olyvar asks.

When he looks back he realises he’s been taking a little too long to pass the ball on, having zoned out to his thoughts - fantasies - and has Patrek eyeing him curiously.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a bit off. Could do with getting a drink. Not made for this weather,” he says to excuse himself, gesturing to his hair and pale complexion. 

After booting the ball over to the two of them, he walks past the two sunbathers, of which he suspects at least one of them follows his movements from behind their tinted glasses, and the tables under the shade where he gives a wave to Willas sitting with a book. The bar, just past the boardwalk and towards the pool, is thankfully quiet when he gets there and asks for a bottle of water. 

He’s not sat up on the stool there long, listening to the music playing, when he feels something against his arm. Theon’s fingers graze Robb just enough to alert him to his presence.

“Hey,” Robb breathes, subconsciously pushing his hand through his hair, loosening the curls.

“You’ve caught the sun,” Theon acknowledges with a smile and touches Robb high on his cheeks gingerly before taking away his hand back and leaning forwards at the bar.

Robb feels the pace of his heart quicken at him being so close. Less than a day and he’s already burnt. Wonderful. “It tends to happen.”

“Hmmm,” Theon’s dark eyes are full of mirth, he’s holding back from saying whatever it is he’s thinking.

Well aware he’s playing with fire, Robb asks, “what?”

“Nothing,” he smirks, glancing over, “I’m trying to behave. You wouldn’t want me to tell you.” He bites his lip and it brings back memories of the pair of them trying not to laugh. Sly touches in lifts behind their colleagues’ backs. Attempting to walk calmly down a corridor and having the other fail to resist the temptation to look back. 

_Try me_ , Robb thinks, his chest tight, while he watches Theon order drinks and chat to the barmaid with ease. He should walk away, head back to the others, but instead, he stays and takes in the sight just hoping for another smile, another look, another touch. Anything. 

“You need to stop looking at me like that,” Theon tells him, a corner of his mouth curling further upwards as he hands over a mojito, letting his finger feel Robb’s own just briefly.

Robb grins with a raised brow. “And how’s that?”

Theon looks back to his drink on the bar and picks it up and brings the straw to his lips, shaking his head. He smiles, running it along them, and takes a sly glance back to him. “Like you’re about to tear off my clothes and have me crying out your name in a matter of minutes.” After a drink, he goes on, “your mouth says one thing and your eyes another. It’s not very kind on me.”

Robb considers all the ways he could be kind. All the times Theon begged for more and he eagerly obliged. The tips of his ears burn. At least the burn goes some way to concealing his embarrassment. 

Theon laughs at him. “What?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want me to tell you.” Robb winks and stirs his drink with its straw, trying to find something to say. “They think I like her.”

“You wouldn't be alone there,” Theon says with a knowing smile.

“She doesn’t think - ?”

“No,” Theon shakes his head, ”far too perceptive.” He snorts softly. “Knows when not to waste her time. And, well, she knows what I’m like. Don’t worry,” he says, noting Robb’s panic, “she just clocked there was some… chemistry. I haven’t told her any of the sordid - “

They are interrupted by Olyvar approaching them from behind, giving Robb a fright when an arm is thrown over both of his shoulders. “Hey, guys!” He grins. “Taking your time about getting these drinks.”

And just like that, with an exchange of looks with Theon, he feels transported back to another time. Another time with a shared secret.

**Theon**

After another painful evening of stolen touches, their inhibitions lowering with each drink, Theon tosses around in his bed. His thigh still feels branded from the moment Robb’s hand fell against his leg whilst he laughed at Kyra and Olyvar singing Summer Lovin’ on the karaoke. He’d stroked him as though it was the most natural thing in the world, but it left as soon as it came when he cheered them on.

Fuck, watching those muscles work as he’d ran round earlier in the day had been pure torture. The last time he’d seen those flexes had been in quite a different context. And Kyra had been no help either, gently teasing him about his interest, whispering about Robb’s heroic efforts to defend him for rogue footballs.

His heart leaps at the vibrate of his phone. Drowned god, let it be him.

Ginger Spice (Hot Pepper )  
  
**Robb:** I can’t stop thinking about you either

He gives Patrek laid in bed a fleeting look and finds him fast asleep.

Just how far can he go with this without sending Robb running? Theon replays the looks and words at the bar over in his mind. The way he’d looked like he could pounce any moment, just waiting for the moment to devour him. He feels the possessive streak in Robb each time he catches his eyes lingering. Fuck it.

  
**Theon:** yeah?  
  
**Theon:** what position am I in?

Theon grins at the sheer speed at which he receives the response.

  
**Robb:** fucking hell  
**Robb:** you don’t waste time do you?  
  
**Theon:** it’s been months  
  
**Theon:** months of waiting for you to get me up against a wall  
  
**Robb:** gods  
  
**Robb:** don’t  
  
**Robb:** it’s taking every ounce of willpower  
  
**Theon:** am i up against a wall?  
  
**Robb:** do you remember the sink?  


Mother have mercy, does he remember the time Robb hoisted him up, his own arms and hands falling back to brace himself on the sink, allowing him the leverage to move against him? Fuck yeah, he does. He felt it for days afterwards, bruises against his back, but it had been worth it. Thank the gods for the strength he carries in his arms and shoulders.

  
**Theon:** how could I not?  
  
**Robb:** imagine it against that bar  


Theon grins. Whilst Robb has always been reluctant to follow through with them, he sure does have some exhibitionist fantasies. Reluctant unless, of course, you count striving to have a partner cry out in places they could easily be heard, or leaving marks where they can be easily seen, because gods almighty does he.

  
**Robb:** I’m so fucking hard  


Before he even gets the chance to ask for a pic he gets one. Well, fuck. A fresh wave of arousal washes over him at the photo of Robb sat on the edge of his bed facing the mirror it's taken in, dick in hand, and his fucking perfect face. His insides swoop. And he thought the other images were masterpieces.

  
**Theon:** damn  
  
**Theon:** baby, this is torture  
  
**Theon:** hold on  


He scrambles from the bed in perhaps the most ungraceful way he has ever achieved, tripping on the sheet trapping his foot and having to catch himself on the wall. Patrek snores softly through it all and rolls onto his side, facing away. Thank fuck he’s the one on this side of the bedroom. He opens the door and treads carefully; Kyra is by far a lighter sleeper. This had been one of her arguments in the great bed debate.

In the bathroom, he hastily neatens himself up and tugs down his underwear to take a photo in the mirror's reflection.

  
**Robb:** fucking hell  
  
**Robb:** i’m not going to last long  
**Robb:** can i call?  


Oh, he’s on board with this. 

Theon immediately calls, beginning to touch himself.

“You’re too hot for my sanity, you know that, right?”

He laughs lightly, back against cool tiles. “Hello to you too,” he whispers, trying to minimise the echo. “Bagged the bedroom, huh?”

“Mmm, I’m supposed to be fucking randoms, or something of that ilk… But my cock has different ideas.”

The rumble of Robb’s voice when he gets like this does things to him. He presses his eyes closed and imagines Robb is in the room with him. That his own hand is Robb’s.

“Tell me about these ideas,” Theon drawls and bites his lip when he hears a groan.

“I’m not good at this.”

He can picture Robb now, a little anxious about talking until he gets started. They’ve never quite done this before either. Texts on a number of occasions, never a call. Usually, it would be Robb locked in a bathroom.

Theon prompts him to give him something to work with. “What are you thinking about now?”

“Your mouth”

“My mouth? Honey, I could be doing all sorts with my mouth,” he tells him low. “Are you thinking about it hot and wet around you? Because I am. I’m thinking about the weight of your cock against my tongue and the ache in my jaw.” Just the thought of it makes his mouth feel desperately empty. “The way you hold my hair as you fuck me. Is that what you’d like to do?” He imagines Robb’s firm hands gripping, the sharp sensation and pleasure that sparks from it. “Do you want to think about all the times I teased you while your thumb feels how well I swallow that monster down? Or,” he smiles knowing full well Robb will think of the piercing, “do you want me to trace those veins I know like the back of my hand with my tongue until you cover it in cum.”

“Seven hells,” Robb says, breathless. “How did I go this long?”

“I can’t help but feel a little insulted,” Theon tells him with a little laugh, his breath catching at the end. “Shit, ok, I need to put you on speakerphone so I…” He laughs thinking of when he’d last teased Robb saying it and his bashful face. “So I can see this hunk of a man on the screen.” He moves to the bathroom counter and sets the phone down face up, bringing up the photo with a shaky right hand and preemptively lowering the volume while he continues to stroke himself with the other. 

“If you only knew how often I’ve thought of you.” Robb groans. “I deleted all the photos of you, but you’re all I see. Every wank.” A bitten back noise. “Every time I need some release you’re right there.”

“Nothing compares,” Theon rasps, hunched over the counter so that Robb can still hear him, because it's true, “no one ever matches up. You’ve ruined me.” One night stand after one night stand in search of something close enough that he could imagine the last pieces. Someone who could overwhelm him. Fuck, someone who could handle him.

“I - ,” begins Robb, but manages to follow it with nothing more than a held back whine and in the following silence, Theon knows just how proud of himself he is. “Are you close?”

“Ever since you sent this. You’re - .“ Shit, those thighs. It’s a crying shame there’s no more than just a glimpse of them fabric free when he runs. The fucking muscles in them. And his back. Fuck. Why must he insist on covering himself up. “Gods, I can’t even… You’re…” Immense. “Fit,” he says with a grin, shaking his head and thinking on the beads of sweat that trickle over his body when he’s been doing something particularly physical, “so fucking fit.” 

Even the way he drinks water from a bottle when he’s in the zone has him think lewd thoughts. Gods, the time when he’d arrived early to meet him after a Sunday league match and he’d watched him cover himself in water.

“Are you still going to be able to take me after all this time?” Robb asks and Theon feels the heat build in his cheeks and his stomach flip. “Does your body still remember me?”

Theon whimpers and hears Robb grunt. 

“Did you have to buy yourself some new toys to feel something?” he continues.

Seven bloody hells.

“Did you keep yourself ready?” Theon moans an affirmation, but Robb isn’t finished. “I bet you tried, didn’t you? You can’t help yourself.”

Theon chokes, and spills over his hand with a groan. The man knows what he’s doing. “Oh, fuck, Robb.”

“That’s it, baby,” Robb softens his voice and pants through the speaker. He continues to speak, praises him, calls him beautiful, tells him how he’d like to stroke back his hair, kiss him, until he reaches his own climax. 

Theon reaches to the tap and feels the nervous bubble of laughter as he rinses his hand.

Some of Robb’s own nerves are brought back. It is strange, after all, not to be able to see the other half of the pair. “Are you ok?” 

“I’m good. Really good. I just... Gods be good. I can’t believe I’m going to have to sneak back into bed after all that. I feel like a fucking teenager.”


	3. Day Three

**Robb**

It’s a good job they hadn’t picked today as the day to hire the boat. Olyvar had his head in the toilet bowl shortly after Robb’s phone call with Theon and was still laid groaning with a bottle of water on the bathroom floor, because, according to him, being against a cold surface was integral with a hangover. And Robb himself is still tired from the limited sleep he’d gotten between both bathroom dwellers.

He expects to find Kyra in the same state when he and Willas make it out to join the others by the pool, but she’s looking as put together as ever and smiles when she sees them approach. Behind her on the sunlounger sits Theon, covering her back in suncream.

“Morning,” she says brightly. “You’re down one.”

“Feeling a bit worse for wear I’m afraid,” Willas tells her, returning the smile. He sets his cane against one of the side tables and sits on the lounger just by them.

Robb greets them with a simple, “hey,” and determinedly avoids Theon’s eyes, all the while wishing he was in Kyra’s place; with Theon’s attentive hands running over him to work in the lotion. It’s him that needs it. It’s not even fair that she comes out from the sun unscathed and he gets to feel like a lobster.

“Ah,” says Patrek with the wisdom of someone who's been there. “Yeah, don’t ever try to keep up with this one.” He looks at Kyra who just smirks. “I’m certain she must have been a sailor in a past life.”

“Come here,” she instructs Robb and shuffles up for him to sit beside her.

When she starts routing round a beach bag, taking out bits and pieces as she goes about her search, he takes the opportunity to look at Theon. It’s harder now he’s let himself properly consider having him again, and heard him whisper what he might do. And shit. He can’t help but cringe about what had come out of his own mouth.

“Aha.” Kyra finally pulls out something that looks to be a cross between lip balm and a glue stick. “A present,” she explains, holding his face still to apply it where he had burnt yesterday. Afterwards, she slips it into the pocket of his swim shorts. “I have another, and this is far easier than getting out other stuff all the time.” Ok, maybe she can be forgiven.

Patrek comments on something in the magazine she’d chucked at him and suddenly she’s gone to sit with him and Willas, leaving Robb and Theon without her as a barrier.

“Sleep well?” Theon asks him, a dimple on his cheek from the lopsided smirk.

Robb shakes his head and tries to contain his smile. “Not especially.”

“That's a shame,” says Theon, sitting forwards from where he'd been sat against the propped up back of the lounger, words dripping like treacle from his lips, “once I did drift off, I slept better than I have in a long time... Months even.” A foot up on the seat, he sets his wrist against his knee. His skin glistens in the sunlight and Robb honestly would not put it past him to be wearing tanning oil purely to fuck with him.

Taking in the smell of coconut coming from Theon in the light breeze, Robb rubs the back of his neck.

They simultaneously glance over to the others to check how much attention is being paid to them and find Willas watching Kyra and Patrek with a bemused look on his face as they debate which of the actresses on a page is the most attractive.

When he’s sure they aren’t being watched, Theon licks his lip and flicks his finger against Robb’s bare arm sending shivers through him despite the heat. The way he’s sat, the way he looks at him, looks like an open invitation to push him up against the backrest and have his way with him.

Robb aches to kiss him; to reach out there and then, hold that sharp jaw and pull him to his lips. He misses the taste, Theon’s tongue against his, and the way his lip feels between his teeth. And he can imagine the way it leads to Theon crawling into his lap. The talk has only made him crave more, it hasn’t satisfied anything within him.

They manage to keep up some semblance of a normal conversation for a short while, mostly about how work has been going, nothing about the glimpses of private lives they’d been privy to during trysts. No mentions of the sister Theon might actually be inclined to answer his phone to while they dressed, no mention of Robb’s overbearing parents he might have been visiting at the weekend which might prevent an ill-advised booty call. But Theon’s eyes are full of mischief, and though the words are pure the tone is something else.

Theon’s toes touch his thigh just as Olyvar appears beside them and almost makes him jump out of his skin.

“Olly!” Kyra cries. “You’re here. We’re just about to get in the pool. Are you coming?”

Robb has to wonder if Olyvar will crack and make a move during this holiday. They’ll have something else in common then. Drawn into cheating by the office hotties from downstairs. No, he doubts he ever looked so smitten about Ami as Olyvar had when talking about his mystery girlfriend.

He doesn’t catch what the response is on account of the slight tilt of Theon’s head and how he says, “coming?”

The water is cool under the beating sun, but Theon’s glances have been everything but since he’d pulled off his top by the poolside. He’d looked at him just like that the first time they’d succumbed to the overwhelming need for something other than a frantic quickie, removing only what was necessary, and paid for a hotel room. 

Robb knew Theon had a swimmer’s body, of course he did - he’s not blind… or oblivious to how he can hold some quite frankly insane positions, but seeing him move in water is something else. From how the water runs over him when he hoists up Kyra with her squealing just to throw her back in, to how he looks swimming towards Robb against the blue tiles of the deep end. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Robb asks, turning towards him when he hooks an arm over the ledge.

Theon grins. “Not as much as I’d enjoy you,” he responds. His finger trails tantalisingly down over the hair leading to Robb’s crotch, shielded from view of the others there by his body.

Robb attempts to contain his own grin and looks away from Theon’s face because the look on it is somehow as suggestive as his touch, and his dick is already threatening to show interest. Which is really not something he’d like to encourage. His mouth opens as he tries to think of an adequate response to that.

This is it, he’s going to spend the entire holiday unbearably horny and imagining scenarios in which they aren’t with other people. All he can think about right now is how he’d like Theon wet against him, hands slipping down the back of his shorts to pull him close. He’d have them off in seconds and him sat up of the pool’s edge to suck him off until the begging got enough to pull himself out of the water, turn Theon onto his hands and knees and fuck him senseless.

“I can imagine.”

Theon’s eyebrows shoot up. Surprising him with a show of confidence is always priceless. He chuckles and lets his finger fall lower and hook into the elastic waistband, making Robb’s cock give an eager jump.

Biting his lip only gains him more interest from Theon, whose finger teases him with gentle strokes back and forth.

“You were right,” Theon tells him, voice low and paired with a smirk, “and I fucked myself on them over photos of you and with your name on my lips.”

Between the embarrassment over what he’s said and the arousal at having his fantasies confirmed his brain short circuits. He’s hard, so fucking hard.

Theon’s hand turns, the tips of four fingers nestle in below his trunks, waiting for permission. When Robb’s hand wraps around his wrist, they begin the retract, expecting to be taken away, but instead he pushes the hand down inside for Theon to feel just how much he wants him. How ready he is for him.

It’s enough for Theon’s body to go lax, he falls slightly, just enough for his dropped jaw to dip below the waterline. “Shit.” He splutters and catches himself again by gripping the drain.

Robb feels his own brows knit from the pleasure of feeling Theon’s hand grope him eagerly and his body moving ever so slightly towards him. Just enough to feel the heat radiating from him through the water. He allows it a short while before he withdraws the hand as though it is his own to control.

“You’d best stay there,” he whispers to Theon, turning to pull himself out of the pool and head to the showers, his voice sounding husky even to his own ears. “We don’t want to be attracting attention by leaving together, and I have something I need to attend to.”

He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down enough to fetch a towel as inconspicuously as possible. It’s a relief that all four of the others had opted to get into the pool in some form or another; Olly for one is sat with only his legs in for fear of what might happen to his delicate stomach if he gets caught up in Patrek and Kyra’s antics.

**Theon**

The evening finds him still a little wound up.

_“We don’t want to be attracting attention by leaving together.”_

Like they hadn’t snuck around for fucking months following after one another. 

Whatever, if he’s not going to take the bait, he’ll find someone who will, and/or wind Robb himself up in the process. Win-win.

“You alright?” Patrek asks, getting close enough to Theon’s ear for him to hear over the loud music.

Theon nods, watching as Kyra’s energy draws a nearby hen party into dancing with her and Robb. The way Robb dances with one of them fuels his irritation. He tells Patrek, “fine,” through gritted teeth.

“What?” yells Patrek.

This time he manages a grin. “I’m good! Shots?” he asks, to which Patrek nods with enthusiasm.

Robb’s grin is so wide, so bright, it hits him with full force even at a distance. The lights run over him, flooding the white t-shirt with alternating colours, but between both the top and his teeth glow from the blacklight. It’s a tighter fit than the ones he wears in the day, and better than anything Theon would have caught him in before, and even this pisses him off. 

One of the group seems to be as taken with the effect, or uses it as an excuse in anycase, and draws a hand over Robb’s torso, over the fabric and the visible muscles beneath, when she leans in to speak in his ear.

“He’s getting lucky tonight!” Patrek laughs in Theon’s ear, who grips the plastic cup in his hand so tightly that it begins to crumple. 

Theon ignores Patrek eyeing the group with interest and turns to take one of the shots on the sticky bar.

“Drink,” he says, nudging Patrek in the stomach and holds out the second to him. After a brief clink and necking the shots, Theon takes Patrek’s elbow, intending to lead him to a different part of the dancefloor, but Patrek, the bastard, appears dead set against this plan. The draw of the group is far too much for him, and fair enough really, there are some lookers amongst them.

Kyra welcomes them enthusiastically, like she hasn’t seen them in months, rather than minutes, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders, forcing them to both stoop towards her if they don’t want to fall, and drawing them close. 

His hand catches her at the waist. It’s impossible not to laugh, and no matter which one of them pulls this move it does the same thing, it gains attention from those there to witness it. He can sense more than one pair of eyes on him, and a blonde to his left is immediately saying something, he has no idea what, but he uses it as a reason to change the waist his hand is sitting against and to lean in close.

He laughs as though he can hear, hoping that was the correct reaction, puts on the smile that can quite literally charm the pants off people, and says, “hi.”

It must suffice; she returns it and places her hand on his arm. It’s a soft, delicate touch. It’s not what he wants, but she’s there, clearly has some interest, and he’s in the mood.

While she’s talking he surprises even himself by taking in her eyes rather than the perfect rack she’s sporting. They’re very nearly the right shade of blue, but not quite, and the lashes around them are layered with mascara. There’s no sprinkling of brown freckles just below. No red hair to contrast with them.

Under the pretence of hearing her better, he turns and lets his fingers graze her on the opposite side. He bends his head for her mouth to speak against his ear and inhales her perfume. The sweet smell does nothing for him but the music thrums through his body and compliments both the alcohol running through his veins and his frustration.

He expects to look up and find Robb’s eyes piercing him with an icy stare. He does not expect to see him laughing and doing the cute bite of his lip he’s prone to doing when being flirted with. And he certainly does not expect it to be a man on the receiving end. It makes his blood boil.

Fuck him. Fuck it.

The next he knows, her arms are up over his shoulders, she’s dancing up close, and his hand slides up high enough for him to feel the soft curve of her breast under the pad of his thumb. 

This time when Theon looks, Robb has a deepening line between his brows, practically glowering right at him as he is handed a drink. That’s more fucking like it.

She twists in his arms, her own pulling him down until his lips are against her slender neck. Even that’s wrong.

When he next looks up, Robb is gone, and a hand grips his waist. He’d know the press of those fingertips anywhere, he’d know the weight of the hold and recognise the sheer size of it. And when the index finger slips below his shirt he knows he’d be able to identify its owner from the way it feels against his skin, that touch alone.

He puts up a little resistance to running straight to him, but the brief prickle of Robb’s beard against his neck and the earthy smell of him is all it takes.

The excitement shoots straight through him. The press of Robb against him is everything, from the way his hand pushes and guides him across the room, to his body plastered to his back when they go through dense pockets of the crowds. He’s so big, so sturdy, no one knocking into him has any chance of pushing him aside. So big in every sense of the word. His erection presses up against the cleft of Theon’s arse each time they come across an obstacle. Whether any of the others see them slip away barely crosses his mind.

Robb is all over him the minute they are out of the main room. Hands creep up until his shirt rides with them. He feels Robb’s mouth hot at his collar and revels in the contrast of the soft lips and the scrape of his teeth. It’s a struggle even to open the doors separating them from some pretence of privacy. 

He groans and follows it with a laugh when Robb’s hand delves down his jeans before they’ve even made it properly into one of the cubicles. The minute they are stumbling in the opposite hand is working on the button and zip. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, hand set against the panel to keep himself from falling, “you’re an animal.”

Robb’s breath is warm against his ear. “Tell me it doesn’t turn you on.”

“You know I can’t.” He grins and turns to find Robb smirking. Smug bastard. It looks good on him.

For all of a couple of seconds, all Robb does is look at him, and then his mouth crashes into his own. It’s rough and ready, and it sets him alight. He whines when Robb catches his lip between his teeth.

Robb backs him up against the cubicle’s wall, if you can call it that, and presses a knee between his thighs. 

Baring his neck to Robb’s kisses, Theon feels for curls below one hand and fumbles with Robb’s belt with the other.

“Seeing you all day every day,” Robb’s hands push up his shirt, “not being able to touch you,” with one holding up the bunched fabric, the other runs over his body to his cock, “it’s torture.” 

Just after Theon manages to free him, his breath hitches when Robb’s tongue plays with his piercing, tormenting it until both nipples are stiff and he makes a noise he can barely believe came out of his own mouth. 

“I think of doing that and the way you whimper each time I see it,” Robb growls into his ear. The strokes of his hand are crude and it feels fucking amazing. There’s nothing like how he feels needed, desired, under Robb’s touch.

Robb goes in for another kiss, it’s just as passionate, though a little more refined. They still wind up abandoning it in favour of breaths and moans against one another's mouths, too far gone to achieve much else. Robb’s eyes can barely be called blue anymore, all that can be seen is the outline around pools of black.

“I hope you realise how fucking stupid you’ve been.” He smiles, eyes pressing shut.

“I don’t know,” Robb has the audacity to smirk at him when he looks back, “I do like it when you’re needy.”

Theon’s jaw drops a little. He recovers with an exaggerated lick and nip of his lower lip, and looks at him through his lashes. “Honey, you know me better than that, I’m always needy for you.” He gasps when Robb’s thumb runs over his slit. The knee pushes higher and all he can think about is how desperately he wishes at least one of his legs was wrapped around Robb’s waist.

“I’m not going to fuck you just yet, just to keep you like this a little longer,” Robb tells him in dulcet tones, “I’m going to make you beg for it. I’m going to push in so… agonisingly… slowly,” he drags out the words, “that you’re reduced to a writhing mess.”

Theon can feel his face flush and what little blood elsewhere in his body rushes south. To save some dignity, he whines against his fist, with Robb’s nose inhaling in the crook of his neck like he’s never smelt anything as good, and prays to the gods no one they know can hear.

His teeth bite against his knuckles when he reaches ecstasy and comes over Robb’s hand to stop himself from crying out. 

Robb’s plump lips smile against his sensitive skin before he pulls away and takes Theon by the chin to place a soft kiss as he pushes Theon’s hand from his own cock. 

Through the haze he feels in the aftermath, Theon trails kisses where his beard meets his neck until he’s licking, sucking, nipping at his earlobe the way he knows can pull some of the best noises from him. He feels Robb’s perfect arse under his jeans - that’s something that truly can be appreciated when he’s wearing his sports shorts - and scrapes his nails lightly over his scalp.

The noise it makes when Robb strokes himself, slipping easily with the improvised lube, is something else. It’s enough that, despite having been sated, Theon feels his dick twitch. The threat of a new wave of arousal only increases when Robb spills on Theon’s belly and proceeds to smear both his own cum and Theon’s over his skin.

“Shit,” Theon exclaims softly, following the pull of Robb’s hand at his jaw, pulling him into a kiss where he fully appreciates the feel of the tongue against his own and the way he tastes, despite being clouded by the taste of vodka and lemonade. He only registers Robb pulling down his shirt and pressing it against his stomach when it's too late. “You absolute fucker,” he says without any real feeling, “that’s one of my best shirts. I’m going to have to get back to the hotel like this now.”

“That’s the point,” he tells him, chuckling, “I don’t want you forgetting whose you are anytime soon.” It’s said as a joke, with a wink, but they each know the idea gets them both off.


	4. Day Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ The wonderful art in this chapter is by Evax3 and can be found on Tumblr here](https://evax3.tumblr.com/post/622462834572509184/salty-wench-because-i-cant-stop-thinking-about)

**Robb**

Theon sighs under his breath and shakes his head at Patrek. He’s wearing the t-shirt he and Robb had been bold enough to get off Robb through hushed laughs outside the hotel room last night, it ripples and blows against him in the wind. “Did you _have_ to get into a fight the night before you could do with the full use of both your hands?” 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Patrek exclaims, throwing his palms upwards and looking to Kyra, who he’s been walking through things whilst sailing to save using his right hand, for backup.

Robb expects her to come out with a joke, an exasperated sigh maybe, but instead she just nods and sounds particularly sincere when she tells them, tugging on a rope - only apparently it’s not called a rope, “he’s telling the truth. Just leave it.”

To his other side, Robb catches Olyvar’s eye and earns an exaggerated comedic grimace over the unusual tension between the trio. Willas, just behind him, concentrates on keeping nausea at bay while the sickness tablets Theon had the foresight to buy kick in. 

It’s an experience being on the boat - though this term is itself a cause of controversy as, although it's only the pair of them who care, Patrek and Theon insist everyone, including Kyra who is particularly persistent in using the word boat, call it a yacht - but it appears team creative are not quite onboard with it, as it were.

The tension mounts until Kyra pulls Theon aside under the guise of sorting something - a winch? She speaks to him quietly with some of the escaped hair from her ponytail blowing around her face with Patrek looking on. Whatever it is, it has Theon’s expression change immediately and his hand moves to her arm and gives it a reassuring stroke.

“Can either of you sail?” Robb asks, and looks out over the water, attempting to give them some privacy.

Willas shakes his head. Makes sense really, he’s regaining some colour but he’s not looking his best. 

“No,” answers Olyvar, “it’s not really a thing at home. Decent at rowing though.” He mimes it out with a grins that says he knows he’s being daft. 

Robb smiles. Of course he is.

“Do you have those tiny little shorts?” asks Willas, already grinning with a wink at Robb in anticipation of Olly’s reaction.

“They aren’t that small!”

In the following moments of gentle ribbing of Olyvar by Willas, Robb takes the opportunity to go back to his observations of Theon. Whether it be, as Robb would like to think, because he has been looking for Robb’s attention, or because he feels eyes on him, Theon glances over and meets his eyes.

He smiles, lips pursing, and also winks, but this one has Robb’s insides do somersaults. This wink doesn’t say ‘this is going to be fun’. This wink says ‘I’m down to have some more fun.’ The smile doesn’t leave his face as he carries on; he knows Robb is watching him, at the way the muscles in his arms become defined when he pulls and the t-shirt, a little big on him, billows and exposes his lower back with the dimples he’d give anything to have under his thumbs.

Where they choose to stop - based on Theon and Patrek’s negotiations the afternoon before, when Robb can’t say he’d had his full attention on what was being said - the water becomes shallow, turquoise over the sands below. 

Once everything is in order, Theon eyes Robb while the others, bar Willas who is sat reading up on the bow, are preparing to get into the water. He hangs back from moving towards the bathing platform. Robb knows what he’s considering because he’s doing exactly the same. His mind is on pulling him inside, his hands under the fabric of that t-shirt and against the heat of Theon’s firm body, pulling his hair free from the bun it's held back in. Having him panting up against one of the cupboards.

He’s worked himself up as much as he intends to have Theon. He’s a complete and utter fool. They have little chance of getting in enough time for anything more than a quick snog, but he’d take it.

But he’s not going to get it.

Kyra has been stripping down to a green bikini nearby and now tugs on Theon’s arm, urging him on. 

“Come on!” She laughs and lowers her voice to tell him something as she gets him onto the bathing platform, then screams when Theon picks her up just to laugh harder when she wraps herself round him to avoid being thrown into the sea.

Eventually she’s falling, taking Theon along with her, and they splash into the water.

Rather than mourn the lost opportunity, Robb lets out a loud laugh.

“You think this is funny?” Theon asks, swimming up the edge of the platform and pulling himself up onto his forearms. “You just wait,” he tells Robb, who stops laughing, not because of the threat, but because of the way the now positively transparent wet t-shirt clings to him as water drips down his face, and the way he takes out his hair, forking it through with his fingers.

If it were acceptable in the present company, he’d get on his knees right there and then and kiss the salt water from his smirking lips.

**Theon**

Theon feels his lips curl into a flirtatious smile when Robb stops laughing, looks at him with those beautiful blues, and risks a bite of his lip with the others distracted. He’d known Robb would appreciate him in the top, but he hadn’t fully anticipated how it would be to be able to smell him against his skin the entire morning, and now it caresses him and he wonders why he’d intended to take it off.

“Are you coming in or what?” He calls up.

Robb grins, wide and toothy just as he had the night before, and checks to see if they are being watched. Then, deliberately slow, he crosses his arms in front of him to take the hem of the t-shirt he’s currently wearing and pulls it up over his taut body, turning as he takes it over his head.

Kyra slides up next to him, bobbing slightly in the water, and murmurs quietly, “oof.” He couldn’t agree more. “So, last night?” She asks, giving a comical wiggle of her eyebrows.

Well, what does he say to that? That good boy Robb Stark is secretly a kinky bastard intent on having him suffer?

He waits for Robb to get into the water and swim towards the shore where the others have a volleyball out, before smiling. “There was some progress.”

Sniggering, she pushes his arm and says, “you’re being coy.”

He is, isn’t he?

“There was some hand action.”

“In his room?”

“No,” he laughs, anticipating her reaction, and bites his lip, putting his forehead into the palm of his hand, “the club toilets.”

She makes a high pitched noise without even opening her mouth. “You hypocrite!”

“I know, but he… ” Theon would've gotten down on his knees on that grotty floor for him. “Well,” he says turning in the water to gesture over to Robb, giving no further explanation while they watch Robb and Olyvar throwing the ball to each other, over and past Patrek until he rugby tackles Robb into the sand.

Kyra snorts and they exchange looks over the pair’s escapades as Patrek lies over Robb, both of them laughing as they reach out for the ball. “Well,” she imitates him, “perhaps you have some competition.” 

-

“They’re alright, the others, aren’t they?” Patrek asks, flicking ash into a can while he’s slouched on the seat on their balcony outside their rooms that evening.

Alright is a bit of an understatement for one of them in particular, ‘a bit of alright’ would be the correct term, but Theon nods before he brings his own cigarette to his lips. “Yeah, they’re sound.” He smiles when they hear a small outburst over a game inside. Has to be said, it has been nice to get to know Robb ‘outside of the bedroom’. Even if it was rarely in a bedroom before.

He lets Patrek chat about the sport teams of choice of the other three and how wrong or right - usually wrong - they are, and makes appropriate noises now and again, until his phone, beside him on the seat, buzzes. Then he becomes distracted, because how could he not.

Ginger Spice (Hot Pepper )  
  
**Robb:** What are the chances of getting you alone?

Theon smirks, trying to think what to say.

  
**Theon:** Now who’s needy?  
**Robb:** never said i wasn’t **Robb:** thinking about what you were saying the other night… **Robb:** wouldn’t mind that right now

“Who are you messaging with that look on your face?” Shit. Patrek is at his shoulder and has definitely just seen the messages, but then again, at least it doesn’t have his name on, just the nickname. “The fuck? Is that?” Eyes blown wide, Patrek looks to door back inside. “It is, isn’t it? How long has this been going on?”

At least this will mean engineering a scenario in which he can share a room with Robb far easier than it could have been. “It started at Christmas,” he says with a grimace. He could have lied, but this is getting out of hand, and he’s by far a better liar than Kyra.

Patrek looks horrified. Gods, it's not that terrible. And it's not exactly out of character either. Theon would have thought he’d have become desensitised to him being a little bit… reckless “How have you kept this a secret?!“

“Well, he - “

“He?”

“Who did you think I was talking about?!” 

“Who the fuck do you think I might have thought you were talking about?!” Patrek retaliates. 

It clicks. _Ginger Spice_.

“Krya?” He can’t help but laugh. “You thought I was talking about Kyra? Oh man, I’m sorry. Gods, no, can you imagine?”

“Then,” Patrek retracks the way they’d glanced before until realisation strikes, “shit! Really? Fuck, I guess you must like him if you kept that quiet.”

Theon freezes. He hadn’t thought about it that way. Is that true? It’s certainly true that he wouldn’t usually be secretive about his indiscretions, hence his surprise at Patrek’s reaction. He’s been telling himself it's the affair - colleague combo.

“He’s had a lot riding on it I guess,” he says non committedly and takes a lungful of smoke.

“Shit,” Patrek repeats like he’s just now considering the added layer of deviancy. “Wow.”

Theon nods in agreement and exhales. “Just, don’t tell Kyra, she thinks its a new thing.”

“She knows?” Bless him, he looks almost offended that he was the last of them to know.

“You know what she’s like. She can tell these things a mile off… well, when they’re under her nose she can at least.” Theon laughs. “Why else do you think she stopped flirting?”

Taking a drag on the cigarette, Patrek shrugs.

“What happened then?” Theon asks, gesturing to Patrek’s black and blue knuckles.

“Oh,” Patrek looks at them himself, seeming a little sheepish, “you know the deal. Some guy was hassling her, so I put an arm round her.” Theon nods. Standard move. “Anyway, I think he must have seen me with one of the other girls, because it did nothing to deter him.”

“So you twatted him?”

“You weren’t there!” Patrek says indignantly, but can’t hold back his laugh. “You would’ve done the same.”

“Oh right, you decided to be reckless in my stead?”

“I didn’t _decide_ anything; it just happened. Anyway, where were you?”

Theon chuckles and inlines his head towards the door.

“Ah. Where you usually are, I guess.” Patrek smiles, stubs out his cigarette, and stands up to head inside and rejoin the others. “You coming?”

“Got a date,” Theon says, gesturing to Kyra’s bedroom through the sliding doors behind them.

**Robb**

Robb takes the cue of Patrek appearing from the balcony from where he has been smoking with Theon, and makes his excuses to leave Theon and Patrek’s room and slip into Kyra’s next door.

Theon is waiting for him right by the door with a sultry grin. “Took you long enough,” he whispers.

The door clicks closed behind him, but on the other side of the dark room the curtains billow in the wind.

“That fucking tshirt,” Robb murmurs, pulling Theon towards him and into a heated kiss. His fingers pull against the collar of the new shirt he’s wearing.

A smirk tugs on Theon’s gorgeous lips. “Liked that, did you?”

“How do you do it?”

“Do it?” Theon laughs, playing innocent with him.

“Know just how to fuck with me,” Robb growls

“I’d ask you the same thing,” Theon whispers in his ear, nimble fingers already working on the zip at Robb’s crotch, “but I don’t think you know. You don’t even try, do you?” Theon licks the shell of his ear and a shiver runs down his spine. “You don’t need to. That’s what turns me on the most,” he admits, making Robb groan.

“I -,” Robb starts and doesn’t finish. 

Tilting his head to the side, Theon arches a brow, but Robb can’t even remember what he’d been about to say.

He kisses Theon’s neck, feels his Adam's apple jump when he presses down a sweep of his tongue. Robb’s lips find Theon’s collar bone, he catches it between his teeth, increasing the pressure of the bite until Theon squirms, only to make him squirm again when he sucks it a rich purple.

Theon’s laugh comes breathless. He smirks when Robb plays with his lower lip, letting Robb’s thumb dip into his mouth.

“I should make you beg for it,” he teases.

Robb looks from his thumb playing against Theon’s lips and into his eyes, and boldly says, “you’d sooner beg me to let you.”

A big grin spreads across Theon’s beautiful face, his dark eyes twinkle even in the dark, and Robb’s thumb leaves his tongue to fall into his dimple and pulls him for another kiss, savouring the feel of the tongue he’ll have elsewhere soon against his own.

Theon parts from him and keeps their eyes locked as he sinks down slowly onto his knees on the marble floor.

Robb’s abs tense when he feels Theon’s mouth soft against his stomach, hands tugging down his trousers, and heat pools in his groin at the sight. Theon’s breath is hot against his rapidly growing cock when he takes it in hand, attempting to form a ring at the base. Sinking his front teeth into the flesh of his lip to suppress a groan when Theon’s tongue traces a long stripe along the underside, he threads his fingers through Theon’s hair pulling him back and away.

Theon’s jaw remains lax when he looks up at Robb, waiting for his go ahead. 

He’ll never get over that look. “Hands behind your back,” he instructs, entertained by the way Theon presses his tongue in cheek when he takes his hands away. His fingers press into Theon’s lips, watching how they move under his touch.

“Robb,” Theon moans.

“Yes, honey?” He asks, guiding the head of his cock towards Theon’s attentions, running it over his lip to encourage him to open, which he does eagerly and then closes around him, engulfing him in the wet heat. He steadies himself against the door and grips Theon tightly, closing his eyes to concentrate on the contrast between his soft tongue and the hard metal of his piercing.

Being honest, the pleasure isn’t in the sensation itself but in the vivid reminder that it’s Theon lapping and sucking so fervently.

It’s not long before he’s thrusting forwards, both hands tangled in black locks, and masked by loud laughter he whispers to Theon whose eyes open and stare up at him immediately, “you’re so good, if only you could see yourself.”

Encouraged, Theon presses forwards, determined to take more of him, and wins the battle against his gag reflex, swallowing around him.

“Fuck,” Robb moans empathetically, thumb removing drool from Theon’s chin. “You’re so… _fuck,”_ his hands shake when Theon moans, humming vibrations, “You love it, don’t you? Can’t get enough. You go such a pretty colour when I talk to you like this,” he says, caressing Theon’s pinkening cheek briefly before he takes his hand down to his throat, and toys with his thumb against it while he watches himself move in and out between Theon’s stretched lips.

Theon’s eyes press closed when Robb takes a tighter hold on his hair to encourage a faster rhythm, nostrils flaring when he whimpers. Robb can see the way the muscles in his arms twitch with restrained movement.

“You’ve spoilt me,” he whispers, and gasps when Theon’s mouth impossibly tightens with a swallow and the press of his tongue. “Touch yourself,” he instructs, fucking into him. “You're perfect. I’d struggle even if you weren’t a fucking tease.”

No sooner does Theon get a hand inside his underwear than he shudders and groans, swaying forwards.

“ _Gods_ ,” he groans, the realisation of just how much Theon enjoys it has arousal spread through him like wildfire. He pulls Theon from him by the hair, hand flying to wrap around his own cock.

Theon recovers quickly and dutifully drops his jaw, tongue flat and waiting for him as he pumps frantically. His smirk is clear from the rounding of his cheeks and the look in his eyes. So cocky. So sure of himself sometimes. He barely blinks when hot come coats his tongue and lip, but darts out his tongue to make sure he swallows every last drop down.

Somewhat self conscious, Robb pulls Theon up to his feet with his clean hand and shares kisses with him as he lunges for tissues sat on the side.

Right on cue, they hear Olyvar ask, “where’s Robb?” and Kyra respond, “maybe he went back to your room,” outside the door, and Theon smiles against his lips. 

The door outside bangs shut, and they both jump at knocks by the side of their head and Kyra’s voice.

“Theon, I swear to the gods you better not be in my fucking bed.”


	5. Day Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone, something crazy happened with the last chapter and it was easier to repost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek, I can't believe this has taken as long as it has, even with the events going on. This chapter has been like pulling teeth, and I honestly don't think I'd have managed it without being able to look over the lovely comments on it, so thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thankfully, I think the next chapter will be much easier and should be with you shortly.

****

**Theon**

Theon watches Kyra smirk over the top of her morning coffee at him down by the poolside, already sensing mischief brewing in her.

“Yes?” he asks, taking a drag on his cigarette and glancing back away to watch Robb swimming lanes whilst the sun is not yet at its peak.

“You can’t keep your eyes off him, can you?” She teases, laughing, and turns to Patrek as she lowers the cup. “Have you ever seen him like this? He looks spaced out half the time.” 

When he’d let Patrek in on the secret, Theon had expected twice as much taunting, he should have known they’d only encourage each other until it’s relentless.

Patrek wets his lip, trying to contain himself, but his eyes sparkle with the secrets he’s been told. “Not recently, no.” Drowned god, he’s going to give him away within a matter of hours of him finding out.

“You know what this reminds me of?” She asks, tugging the collar of Theon’s t-shirt to show off the lovebites Robb has gifted him the night before while he tries to push her hand away.

That’s when he knows he’s doomed, but he still has some delusions. “Give over!” Theon tells her, but he can’t control his grin; both over her light banter and the thought of how Robb has left him. He’d spent a fair amount of time caught up in admiring them on the reflection of himself in the bathroom mirror that very morning before trying to conceal them to some extent. Willas and Olyvar still don’t know, and he’d like to keep it that way.

Beside her, Patrek keeps his head down and blows out smoke to his side. At least he’s doing something right.

“Oh my god, Patch!” She laughs suddenly, patting his knee excitedly. “It’s Vlad, isn’t it?”

Patrek looks from her to Theon, casually flicking ash into an ashtray, and after seeing Theon’s defeated face gives a small nod and an amused smile. Some much for keeping it quiet. Fucker.

“No wonder you were keeping him quiet!” Kyra exclaims with gasp, echoing Patrek’s sentiment from the night before.

He chooses to ignore this for now. “How the fuck did you know?”

“Oh please,” she rolls her eyes briefly, “you should have seen - _see_ \- yourself.”

“I can’t believe you have a nickname for him.” Theon shakes his head, bringing the cigarette to his lips again. “Very original by the way,” he says sarcastically before taking another lungful, though he’s not sure what else they could have go with.

“Well! It wasn’t like you were going to give us his real name, was it?” This is true, he’d have probably made something up. She chuckles again. “I _knew_ it must have been someone at work… Aren’t you freaking out?”

No she didn’t; surely she’d have figured it out sooner if she did.

Theon frowns, brows bunching. “What?”

“Ky…” warns Patrek, shuffling in his seat with nerves until the chair leg scapes unhappily on the tiles underneath.

“Well, you know how you are… you um…”

“Yes?” Theon presses her.

“Well, uh”, she licks her lip, looking between them both anxiously, perhaps hoping for some back up from Patrek, “let’s just say I imagine there was some safety in him being married for you. You know how you are.”

Theon scowls. “How am I?” He knows already he has no right to be surprised or annoyed by this accusation, and yet...

“Theon…” she whines.

“No, go on.”

“Come off it,” says Patrek, coming to her defense, “you’re a huge commitment phobe.”

“I am n-” He is though, isn’t he?

“Sorry,” she says, pulling an exaggerated grimace when she sees the realisation written on his face.

“Fuck!”

It’s absolutely ridiculous that he hasn’t thought this through already himself. Robb being effectively single had simply equaled available again up until now. It wasn’t like he’d ever called things off because Robb was married, that had been on Robb. Perhaps if it weren’t for their history he could’ve passed it off as a holiday fling. But this? There are very few people who would take this combined with months of sneaking around as nothing serious. And Robb Stark is certainly not one of them.

Right when this strikes him, Robb reaches the side of the pool closest to them and, right on cue, pulls his perfect body, dripping wet, out of the water, rivulets trickling down his muscular chest to the bit of soft belly he has on him.

“Fuck,” he repeats again, softly and under his breath this time, and Kyra reaches over to give him an affectionate pat on the arm.

Smiling broadly, she winks at him. “We’ll leave you to it.”

“Leave me to what?” he hisses, fighting a losing battle and watching them both vacate the plastic chairs.

“We’re going to go on that coach trip Willas and Olyvar were talking about, you two have fun.”

He reaches out to catch her, but she moves out of reach. “I can’t believe - “ When did they decide to do this to him?

“Hey,” Robb greets him, giving his hair a hasty towel before drying his chest and putting it down on Kyra’s now empty seat. “How are things?” His smile is confident today, more sure of himself as he had been once before, and so bloody flirty. Theon is sure that if they’d been alone he’d have lent right over, a hand on each of the chair arms, and kissed him well. He half wishes he would, but instead he does the safe thing and sits, leaving Theon to his fantasies.

“See you later guys!” Patrek calls over his shoulder as they meet the doors.

“See you,” smiles Robb, with a little wave, oblivious to Theon’s fright. As soon as they are left, his strong hand gives a sly stroke of Theon’s thigh. “Hey, do you want to get dinner later? Last night and all that.”

Theon forces a smirk, knowing what he means, but choosing to be difficult about it. “We’ve gotten dinner every night.”

The red head, much to his credit, rolls his beautiful eyes at him. This bodes well for them in terms of a relationship, but that thought itself terrifies him. “Very funny. Do you like seafood?” When Theon crooks a brow, he asks, “sorry, is that a stupid question?” And suddenly he’s back in sweet mode.

Theon smiles, taken in by it. “Yeah, I do.”

“Great,” Robb says while Theon is busy being taken in by the latest freckles on his face, “there’s a restaurant down the beach a little way. I’ll make reservations?”

“Sounds great.” Inwardly, he cringes at repeating Robb’s words. He’d been far too busy thinking about the opportunity to map out the new constellations on his body, to commit them to memory as best he can.

“...just us two, yeah?”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, “I gathered.”

“Great,” Robb repeats again. He looks so relieved that Theon feels overcome with affection once more for the guy. So fucking handsome and here he is struggling to ask someone out.

Putting on his best sultry voice, Theon moves his arm over the back of the chair and strokes a finger over the bare damp skin of Robb’s shoulder. “What do you want to do in the meantime?”

* * *

****

**Robb**

He’d known what Theon was getting at. Of course he’d know. And the gods know, he’d wanted to leap at the chance to go back to one of their hotel rooms and give in to the pure lust running through him, but that would be leaving things as they are and that’s not what he wants anymore. He wants more and there’s limited time left to convince Theon that this is something he could at least consider.

There’s still the work problem, but surely it's worth it. He can’t bear the idea of Theon with anyone else. He can’t bear the idea of always sneaking around anymore, as fun as it’s been. He wants the whole of him, something he’d suspected before, and this holiday has only confirmed that. 

So instead of giving in to the temptation, he’d managed to convince Theon down to the beach and had him howling with laughter at his pathetic efforts at surfing and showing off with his own skill while Robb watched, sitting on the beach and enjoying the view. By the time they’re ready to go out to eat his cheeks ache and yet he can’t stop smiling.

Theon has dressed up for the occasion in a way that puts him to shame. His hair drawn back to give full view of the long lines of his neck.

Feeling awkward, Robb clears his throat, suddenly realising he knows relatively little about Theon’s life. “So, you’re from the Iron Islands?”

Theon nods and takes a sip of the wine he’s picked out for them both. “Pyke.”

“Do your family still live there?”

His answer is as short and brief as the last. “Yeah.”

“I think I remember you mentioning your sister a few times. Asha, right?” Robb asks even though he knows the answer in hope it will get him talking. “Do you miss them?”

Theon looks up from his plate and glass for the first time since Robb started this line of questioning; struggling for the answer. “My sister, I do. My mum too, but… I would still if I were still there.” Theon shrugs one shoulder. He says no more, but pushes what’s left of his desert around the plate. With a will of its own, Robb’s hand reaches out across the table to touch Theon’s. Whatever he means by that, it can’t be great.

“Sorry,” Theon says. His lips curl into a smile Robb knows enough about him to know isn’t real. “Ignore that.”

Stroking a thumb over the knuckles on Theon’s hand, Robb shakes his head. “I don’t want to.”

The small smile he wears seems a little more sincere. “How about you? Do you get on with your family? I suppose you must do with how often you go home, right?”

“Mmm, my brothers and sisters - three brothers, two sisters,” he laughs at Theon’s face, “I know - are scattered all over the place. My sister Sansa lives nearby though.”

“When did you move down?”

“A couple of years ago.” Robb refrains from mentioning why he’d moved down. He expects Theon will put two and two together, he’s been married for a similar length of time. There’s no indication of it when Theon’s finger tips run tantalisingly slowly over his forearm.

“Lucky me that you did,” says Theon, his voice sultry. 

“Have you lived in King’s Landing long?”

“A while.” 

When Robb feels a foot run up his calf meaningfully. He raises his eyebrows.

Theon tips his head to the side, a mischievous smile on his face. “Yes?” 

“I’m trying to have a real conversation with you,” Robb half laughs.

The hand slips from his arm and down under the table. “I can see that,” Theon tells him, watching his face when he begins to stroke his thigh.

“You’re making it very difficult,”

“Good.”

“Theon, I…” He catches the hand, holding it tight. “I want to get to know you.”

“No, you don’t,” Theon says with a smirk. “You might think you do, I’ll give you that. But you’ll end up regretting it just like everyone else does.”

“Am I just like everyone else?”

“I didn’t say that.“ Sighing, Theon pulls away his hand to take his drink in hand instead.

“And you have at least two friends I know of that don’t appear to regret a thing.”

“I… That’s not exactly the same. I just,” he gives a little huff, glancing to look out through the window, “It’s easier to keep things separate. Low risk.”

“I’m not looking for easy. I’ve spent years avoiding risk. I like you, and I have a feeling you’re worth the gamble. I get if there’s things you’d rather not talk about, but eventually, I’m telling you I do want to know. So, if you want to keep doing what we’re doing, you’re going to have to accept that.”

“And if I were to say I don’t want to get into anything serious?” Theon asks. 

To be perfectly honestly, it’s what Robb expects in a way, whilst simultaneously feeling nauseous at the idea.

“I’m just asking you to consider it. I know that I haven’t exactly been… Well, despite, you know, I’m not someone who ordinarily does… casual.” He bites his lip, knowing this sounds ridiculous after screwing around for months on end. But he hadn’t thought he was in danger of getting his heart broken at that point. There was no part of him that could foresee a future between them.

“That how you wound up married?”

“Something like that,” Robb admits. It’s true, after a couple of dates he couldn’t seem to find a way to put an end to things, he’d gone through the motions, there never seemed to be a decision made.

“I should run a mile,” says Theon with good humour, making Robb’s hopes soar. 

“But you’re not going to?” he asks, trying to contain himself by taking a drink.

“Unless I’m up for finding a new job, I don’t really think that’s an option. I can’t be doing with a repeat of the last few months,” Theon says, shaking his head. Robb can’t help but grin. “Feeling smug?”

It’s his turn to shake his head. “No, relieved I wasn’t alone.” Reacting to the way Theon looks at him, Robb leans in to him. He intends for it to be a quick chaste kiss, restaurant appropriate, but Theon has other ideas. He usually does. With Theon’s fingers threaded through his hair and the hand slipping up the inside of his thigh, Robb’s head spins as he tastes the raspberry on Theon’s tongue.

“Can we get out of here now?” is whispered softly and low into his ear.

****

**Theon**

He doesn’t know what he expected, but Robb deciding enough is enough and taking him to his room when there’s every chance they will be caught was not it. Drowned God, he must be serious about this whole thing. 

Robb parts from him once they get into the suite to check on the other bedroom, first putting his ear against the wood before risking opening it a little to peek inside. On discovering it empty he grins, wide and bright, in a way that Theon’s sure could take anyone's breath away. Then, nipping his plump bottom lip, he does what Theon can only describe as a swagger over towards him to take him in hand.

“They might come back,” Theon mumbles between kisses, breathless from just that and the way Robb pulls him close. He’s trying to remain cautious, but Robb’s hand has snaked up under the back of his shirt and the warmth and firm pressure has him weak.

“Told them I was bringing someone back. They’ll be a while.”

Theon chuckles, trying to decide whether to interrupt things with questions over when this was arranged. “Someone?”

“Mmm,” Robb hums against his throat and looks up to him, the cheekiest look about him as he sets about unbuttoning Theon’s shirt one handed, “couldn’t waste the room now, could I?” And with that, Robb’s lips are against his collar, dragging groans from him. “Speaking of which…”

Theon lets himself be backed into the bedroom until, before he knows it, he’s falling back onto the bed under Robb.

“I missed you,” Robb breathes. It doesn’t require a response, Robb’s tongue is at the piercing on his nipple, circling and making him gasp. His cock stains against his clothing, begging for release.

“Robb…” he whines. He says no more, but Robb knows what he wants. Lips still against his bare skin edging further and further down his torso until he trembles at their caress on the sensitive skin above his groin, Robb’s hands are making quick work of getting his jeans off him.

The second he has them off, Robb settles between his legs, pressing kisses along his thighs and right in the crook of his leg. He’s such a fucking tease any time they have a little freedom and anything more than half an hour to spare.

Fingers finding Robb’s hair, he runs them gently through his curls. He knows better than to give direction, but he also knows gentle touches will have Robb thinking he is managing to restrain himself. “I missed you too.” They’re the magic words. Closed-lipped, Robb’s mouth runs over his dick, close to driving him crazy.

“Go on,” Robb tells him, warm breath against the head and eyes dark when they look up at him from down there.

Theon bites his lip, slips his feet higher up the bed. “I missed how well you take me apart,” he whispers and is rewarded with a brief yet delicious lick. “I missed everything about you,” he continues, gasping when the whole of Robb’s tongue is pressed against his length, and admits, “I don’t know what you want me to say, because I could list every part of you.” Robb’s mouth engulfs him, but the minute his hips jerk, Robb's hands are holding onto him, thumbs kneading the body beneath them. “Fuck, you hold me like you’ll never let go. It scares me, but fuck, what it does to me.” Robb hums around him, bobbing his head. “Your eyes though,” Theon laughs nervously, “that never stopped. I got off on those looks.”

No sooner has he said this than Robb’s mouth has left him and he is turned roughly over. He groans, too turned on by the eager nature and the new friction to mourn the loss. The smack against his arse comes as a shock. Welcome, but a shock all the same. He jolts, draws his knees up.

“Did you think I didn’t know that?” Robb asks huskily. Theon’s hands grip fistfuls of the sheets below. He’s a little speechless, but aware Robb will be looking for an okay. Forcing his best cocky smirk, he looks back over his shoulder.

“I was counting on it.”

Robb’s hand falls harder this time and any blood he had remaining goes straight to his cock. “Slut,” Robb chastises him, not without affection, and Theon feels stomach flip, the heat building in his cheeks.

“Oh Gods,” he breathes out at another spank that sends shockwaves through his body.

“Did you think about me?” All Theon can manage is a nod of his head in response, and a whine when Robb leans over to whisper in his ear. “I was counting on it.”

He gets out a breathy laugh after a thwack against his buttock. “I know you were.” He receives another blow for that and grins into the bed. “I -” Robb’s hand cuts him off. “Oh, fuck. I pretended -,” the grin falls from his face the next time he feels Robb’s palm, “I _tried_ to pretend they were you.” Theon can’t see behind him, but he knows Robb is smiling. “Fuck me,” he breathes, half between an exclamation and a request.

Robb’s finger’s graze over the tender flesh of his bum, stinging below his touch. “You look like you’ve caught the sun,” he jokes, bending over to kiss him there softly. The light graze of his beard against sensitive skin, sends a shiver up Theon’s spine. “Let me take care of that for you.” He’s vaguely aware of the mattress shifting when Robb leaves momentarily, and its dip once he’s back. The next time his hands touch him they are slick and cooling, soothing the burn they have left, and what Theon can feel of the rest of him is bare.

“Robb,” he whimpers, “please,” and gasps when a finger slips into him.

“Do you like that?”

“More, please, more.”

Robb chuckles, “did you forget what I told you?”

Theon shakes his head, and welcomes the second finger with a rock of his hips with Robb brushing the hair from the nape of his neck to place a kiss. The feel of Robb’s warm hand running over his body bids him relax until he can do little but make encouraging noises. 

When Robb presses his cockhead against the cleft of his arse, he groans, willing him on. Robb, however, has other thoughts and soon he’s being pulled over onto his back to look up at him and the bright blue eyes piercing him. It’s not unfamiliar territory for Robb to overwhelm him, but this is something different. Hesitantly, he draws a hand up, strokes his cheek and forks his fingertips through the short beard there. Robb meets him when he picks up his head to go for the kiss.

His fingers drift, stroking down through Robb’s chest and across his belly until he finds his cock and has Robb groaning and kissing him fervently from just the offering of his palm to rut against. 

True to his word, Robb pushes into him tortuously slow when he does finally heed Theon’s wishes.

“Is this what you wanted?” Robb rasps, large hands hoisting up his hips and thrusts slow and steady.

“I -,” Theon moans and tips his head back, the stretch is everything, “I just wanted you more than anything.” He can barely believe what he’s saying himself. This must have the desired effect because Robb groans and soon has his lips at Theons throat, beard tickling him softly; a new thing to make it explicitly clear that it’s Robb’s weight above him.

“I’m yours,” Robb tells him right as he changes the angle and has him seeing stars, “all yours.” He might be keeping the pace, maintaining his control, but his voice betrays him in letting Theon know how far gone he is.

Theon had never expected to feel so overcome by such a declaration. He’s not ordinarily the jealous type, and he’d have taken whatever he could, but there’s no denying how good it feels. The words and Robb’s tender touches both.

For a moment, he’s frustrated when one of Robb’s hands leaves him, but after hearing the flick of a cap, he’s soon rewarded with the slip of it around his dick that has his eyes roll back into his skull.

“Gods,” he breathes between moans at the synchronised efforts of Robb’s cock and hand. Nothing they’re ever done has been like it. Even the few times they’ve had a full view and feel of one another’s bodies free of clothing were frantic, eager to find the release before getting back to their lives, but Robb takes his sweet time taking him apart and it has him feeling more exposed than ever before. He should hate it.

Robb is kissing the leg of Theon’s he’s drawn up when he feels the tension mounting to a height there’s no coming back from. Speechless, he beckons Robb down to kiss him soundly until he spills over and pulls away to make the noises dragged from him by his ear. 

“You feel so good.” Robb groans. His speed picks up, thrusts erratic and eyebrows bunching. “You’re perfect.” Theon is quickly becoming oversensitive, legs quaking and a new wave washing over him with each brush against that sweet spot until Robb himself achieves ecstasy, shudders, and falls over him.

They lie like that for some time, Theon’s arms around Robb, a hand against his head as his dick softens inside him, chests heaving and hearts pounding, until Robb rolls from him and onto his side. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m just going to clean up.” Theon knows from the look on Robb’s face that he’s concerned, and he doesn’t blame him, he can’t deny he isn’t contemplating running, but when he returns he stands by the bed and asks cautiously, “are you sure about this?”

Theon isn’t given his answer in the form of words, but in the way Robb’s hands pull him under the covers and into his embrace. He falls asleep with Robb’s hot body plastered to his back and a thumb stroking his arm and realises he’d missed this too despite never having shared a bed with him in this capacity.


	6. Day Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, sorry, this isn't great but it refuses to fix itself

**Theon**

Theon wakes to find Robb stretched out beside him. He should’ve known he’d be a bed hog, but he is a handsome one at least, especially when he cracks a lopsided smile into the fluffy pillow his arms are tucked under on feeling Theon move, eyes still closed.

Relaxed Robb is a new yet very welcome sight, especially the bed head curls. “You’re still here,” he murmurs sleepily.

Though it's probably not a good idea to tell him this, Theon is surprised himself. He props himself up on his elbow to slip the sheets down Robb’s back and over his arse, taking advantage of being able to see him bare once more, and sees Robb peek open an eye to look at him. Ignoring him, Theon wanders his hand down Robb, following the sheet while taking in the freckles, mapping every mole and the contours of his body, until he cups a buttock and gives it a playful squeeze.

“You have such a lovely bum,” he says, feeling it firm in his hand.

Robb chuckles.“ _‘_ Lovely _’_?”

“Sweet?”

“Get off,” Robb’s says, voice gruff from sleep as he lazily attempts to swat him away, “you don’t deserve a feel.”

Theon laughs and kisses him first between his shoulder blades before going on down his spine. “I’m very sorry, let me make it up to your incredibly sexy bottom.” He enjoys the little noise of approval Robb makes at the wet kiss his buttock receives and the jump at the very light way he sinks his teeth in.

“Come here,” Robb insists, dragging Theon’s upper body back up as he rolls over onto his back. The kiss he gives is lacking the usual urgency but no less wonderful for it. Fingers card softly through his hair. Theon can’t remember the last time something so tender got him so worked up and it seems Robb feels similarly. 

Following Robb’s hand’s command he receives from the opposite side, Theon swings over a leg to straddle him at the hips whilst still locked in the kiss. He’s grinding against him the second he feels Robb rock hard beneath him and the hand at his hip grips him tight, urging him on.

“I think maybe you should always be naked,” Robb says with a smile when they finally part. The morning light streaming in through the balcony makes the red in his hair shine brilliantly while he fumbles with his phone and the speaker to get some music on.

It could be pointed out to him that the possessive streak in him would likely have that end badly, but instead, Theon grins and responds, “that would be incredibly impractical and neither of us would get anything done.”

“Shhh, let me have my fantasies.” Robb trails the fingertips of his free hand up and down Theon’s side, tickling his bare skin lightly, then reaches up to tuck Theon’s hair back behind his ear and tug him back down into a kiss. 

Theon moans at the soft suck of Robb’s mouth on his bottom lip, grinding harder against him. That has Robb crumble a little; he reaches for the gel bottle on the nightstand without looking.

“You really thought you could get through the whole holiday?” Theon asks with a nod towards it in reference to the apparent lack of lube.

“I… it’s multipurpose.” 

“Stark,” he purrs, leaning in to kiss Robb’s neck, lavishing the skin below his ear with a flick of his tongue, “are you telling me you weren’t as good intentioned as you’d have me believe?”

“I’m telling you,” Robb pulls Theon down against his chest, whispering into his ear, “that my subconscious knows I’m weak for you.”

Robb takes his sweet time with him, no amount of noise will have him from the care he takes to open him up. Robb’s elbow and forearm have him trapped. Sure, he could wrench himself away if he truly wanted to, but the pressure and thought of Robb’s strength and will does things for him, plus there's the heavy weight of the hand at the nape of his neck, threading through his hair, and soothing him. He’s left to moan helplessly when the first finger circles him.

“Please,” he whispers, heart pounding in his chest with anticipation.

“So polite,” Robb teases him but does at least slowly sink in one lonely digit.

Jolting, Theon feels his cock twitch. Robb’s hands are significantly bigger than average, it’s not nothing, but it makes him desperate for more and he tells Robb as much to no avail. This time he receives only a chuckle, a stroke of his hair, and the agonisingly slow movement of that finger.

When he begins repeating Robb’s name over and over, Theon is sure he feels Robb stir at it, and perhaps some of his patience is diminished with it because a second finger is worked into him shortly after. He lets out something between a whine and a noise of relief into the shell of Robb’s ear.

With Robb’s fingers stretching him open, pumping in and out in a way it set his nerves alight - leaving him little use of his mind, his lips find the collar beneath him. Eyes closed, he kisses at Robb’s skin, lightly grazes his teeth against him and follows the path with his tongue, licking the light sheen of sweat. “Shit, Robb,” he mumbles, dazed. Soon, he’s pushing himself back onto Robb’s fingers, seeking more from him. “Please, more.”

He muffles the involuntary noises he makes when Robb gifts him the third finger in the crook of his neck, only pulling away to suck his mark on him and appraise it afterwards. Robb whines under him at that, his pulse races beneath Theon’s lips, and crooks his fingers in response to the way Theon reverently traces the new tender patch he has turned red with his tongue. Theon isn’t oblivious to why he’s so taken, it’s something that gets to him too as soon as he’s done it; he’s never been able to do this before - because Robb has never been solely his to claim.

“It’s something to help you,” he breathes out when he recovers, “to help you think of me when you get home tonight.”

The loss of Robb’s fingers hits him hard and the following brush of the cockhead nudging him is all the invitation he needs. Robb’s arm moves to free him in a sense, gripping him tight at the hip instead, fingertips pressing into the flesh of his arse. He can’t stop himself crying out when he sinks down onto him. That’s surely heard above the music and he barely has it in him to care.

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes closing on their own accord and finds Robb gazing up at him, lip between his teeth, when his sight returns.

Stroking Theon’s thighs, Robb tells him, pupils blown, “you should see yourself.” He groans when Theon begins to move. “You’re so good.”

“I’ve barely started.”

“Exactly.” 

Theons places his palms against Robb’s stunningly broad chest to steady himself, using him as purchase in his endeavours. He sees stars on every rise and fall.

“You ride me so well,” Robb rasps, sounding as wrecked as Theon feels. “Does it feel good?”

He breathes out a shaky laugh. It’s something of an understatement. “Really fucking good.”

“Yeah?” One of Theon’s hands is taken by the wrist, guided up to Robb’s pink lips, swollen already from biting them between his teeth. The next thing he knows, Robb is taking fingers into his mouth, sucking them good and proper one by one, and licking between each, right the way through Theon’s whines. His bright blue eyes look between them and Theon’s face, keen to see the effect he’s having. Theon can barely bring himself to move. Once he has them wet to his satisfaction, Robb moves his attention to the palm, tracing the lines there. Theon shivers at the feel of the hot tongue against his nerve endings. 

He thinks he could come from this and Robb’s dick filling him and grazing his prostate with every shift of his body, but Robb has other ideas. He moves Theon’s hand until it's at his own cock. Knowing what has in mind, Theon’s arousal spikes.

“Baby, you fucking yourself on my cock is a sight. How about you show me how you like to be touched too?”

His breath catches. A small part of him, the part that has his cheeks flush, is perhaps a touch embarrassed. It’s not like he hasn’t done it with Robb there before, but it’s always been a quick thing when he knows Robb is close, about to fill his mouth with his cum more often than not. This time is different. This time he’s exposed, on show. Normally he’d enjoy that, in theory, he _does_ enjoy that, but it's not always taken well.

“Love?” Robb asks like it’s a perfectly normal thing to call him, tilting his head to one side, and to Theon’s own shock, he _likes_ it, keens at it. “You don’t have to, but I’d really _really_ like it if you did.”

_Seven fucking hells, the man knows what he’s doing._

Theon leans back to give Robb a better look, moving his free hand to Robb’s thick thigh. At first, he starts slow, swipes his thumb, slick with Robb’s spit, over the head, smearing the precum gathering there and exhales long and slow. When he begins to stroke himself, he struggles at first to keep the rhythm and his control, until Robb offers his hand that is. With fingers interlocked with Robb’s, Theon closes his and concentrates on the feeling of Robb’s girth stretching him wide and the hand around his dick. 

“Gods, you're gorgeous. This is just how I pictured you’d look getting yourself off… there’s nothing like the real thing though,” Robb groans, running his hand up the inside of Theon’s thigh soothingly, brushing the pad of this thumb higher and higher. It shouldn’t feel as exciting as it does having his touch edge closer to his groin, not in this context, but it does all the same. “Especially not when I’m buried inside you.”

The way Robb is watching him when he looks down through hooded eyes is overwhelming, full of lust and something else; adoration, it has his chest tightening and his toes curl. He’s quickly losing momentum and any sense of a rhythm.

“R-Robb, I- I-,” _can’t,_ he’s about to say, but Robb already knows that, he’s ready and waiting for the admission.

Theon gasps when he’s flipped onto his back and cries out in ecstasy when Robb plunges into. His eyebrows meet when Robb’s hand flys across his mouth. He inhales deep through his nose, excitement flaring when Robb pushes his leg higher until it hooks over his shoulder. Once done, he slips away the hand and offers up the fingers of the other in replacement. He doesn’t even consider why, he’s that thrilled at having the weight to curl his tongue, until his second leg is thrown up.

Theon smirks around Robb’s digits, remembering the look in Robb’s eye when he’d first realised how willingly his body contorts under such encouragement, but it's short-lived and wiped from his face when Robb moves above him. 

He’s thankful to see Robb as affected as he is when he rolls back his hips to meet the snap of Robb’s own. It's a poor effort on Theon’s part, the pleasure running through him each time Robb pulls almost entirely out to sink back inside has his lashes flutter until he can’t even think straight, he’s lost all control of the noise he makes around the fingers.

“Fuck…” Robb turns his head, kisses Theon’s calf, eyes pressed closed as he concentrates. “I’m not going to last much longer. Fuck - what you do to me… “ 

Theon can’t help it; the warmth in the pit of his stomach or the way he clenches around Robb, but that doesn’t mean he’s oblivious to the effect it has on Robb.

“Fill me,” he breathes after turning his head to free his mouth, just loud enough to be heard. “I want - oh gods - I want to feel your cum spill - spill out of me.”

It really doesn’t take him much longer after that. Robb’s hands lift him from the small of his back as he fucks into him hard and fast until he’s coming with one long groan. Still panting, he shifts his hands, taking one between Theon’s legs, and clasping the other to the back of his neck, pulling him into a rough needy kiss as he begins to stroke him. Theon’s own cry when he spills over Robb’s hand and their torso is muffled by the possessive tongue sliding against his.

“Drowned god,” he murmurs, coming down when Robb collapses beside him, panting, “that’s a hell of a way to wake up…” Robb grins with a bright flash of teeth, ever proud of himself, and smooths back Theon’s hair from his face. “Shit, what time is it?”

“Early. We’re fine, don’t worry. Early enough to take our time in the shower.”

Theon, catching his meaning by the look in those exceedingly blue eyes, chuckles and quirks an eyebrow. “And I thought I had a high libido.”

“It’s your fault,” he claims and kisses Theon softy with those plump lips of his, “I can’t help myself.”

* * *

Eventually, Robb does accept Theon will need to go back to his own room and follows him out into the small entrance hall, watching him fondly as he gets his shoes on.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Theon laughs, knocking the shoe in his hand into Robb’s belly and freezes when the second bedroom door swings open.

“Hey,” Olyvar says sleepily, holding a wash bag, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Theon isn’t sure what to say to that, at least he didn’t hear him _come._ Frozen still, bar his eyes, he looks to Robb who proves to be as useless as he is, but that doesn’t mean Olly is quick to cotton on.

“Morning,” shouts Willas past him from where he stands folding clothes, “sleep well you two?”

The picture on Robb’s face and the way it flushes crimson is hilarious, but Theon suspects he’s not one to talk.

Chagrin, Theon is the one to provide an answer. “Great, thanks. You?”

“I’ve slept better,” he says meaningfully with a laugh.

The moment Olyvar realises is visible on his face. He looks to Robb’s open door and then back to them. “Oh… _oh_ ,” he breathes, to which Willas snorts.

“And I thought they were oblivious,” comments Willas.

Robb grimaces. “Please don’t - “

Holding up his hands, Willas smiles. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing. Though, if you’re going to carry this thing on, you should consider owning up to it. You won’t be the first, and I am fairly certain you won’t be that last.”

“Uh, thanks.” Theon rubs the back of his neck and avoids looking at any of the three of them. It’s gone from agreeing to a date or two to this in three seconds flat. “I should get going,” he mumbles, ignoring the movement from Robb’s hand urgently reaching for him when he turns. “I’ll see you all outside.”

Theon breathes a sigh of relief when he gets to their rooms, in great need of some advice, but it's not to be.

He gets inside to find Kyra’s bedroom door shut, while the one he shares with Patrek is empty. _Maybe she’s asleep and he’s gone out for something_ , Theon contemplates while kicking off his shoes. It will have to wait a minute. He’ll give her a little longer, go out for a smoke and then he’ll encourage her to wake lest they want to miss the flight… and hopefully she’ll talk him down from this panic.

Outside on the balcony, cigarette in hand, and looking out at the sun glittering on the sea ahead of him, he hears the telltale noises of something other than sleep. Theon smirks, that will be why he hasn’t had any nosey messages yet. She’s found something, someone rather, to keep her occupied. Maybe Patrek found somewhere else to sleep too.

Every assumption he’s made come crashing down when amongst the moans he catches an ‘oh fuck… Patrek’ uttered.

Drowned God. He wonders how they’ve managed to keep this from him, how long this has been going on, and then it hits him. They haven’t kept it from him. Or not well at least. The fight, the misunderstanding over the texts… the, and maybe he’s being a little self centred, relative lack of keeping tabs on him. He’s just been… ‘oblivious’, Willas had said, to it. 

A grin spreads across his face while he decides how long he’s going to keep this in his own back pocket, how long he can drag this out for a laugh. They’ve tormented him with their knowledge by reminding him they know every two seconds. He plans to do quite the opposite.

* * *

**Robb**

They fail to convince any of the other members of the party to sit with them on the flight, and so he’s forced to sit with Theon within sight but out of reach for hour upon hour. It’s a worry watching him sit there between Kyra and Patrek just joking around when they haven’t yet had a chance to talk. That look Theon had had when he’d left that morning hadn’t been a good one. He could murder Willas. If there’s anything he’s learnt about Theon is that these things need to be approached with caution. He’s not a fool, Theon hadn’t once asked for more from him; hadn’t ever suggested he leave Ami for him. He’s been one step away from unbuckling his seatbelt and squeezing past Olyvar the entire flight.

Seizing his chance, lest he winds up trying to have this conversation over the phone or at work, he approaches Theon in baggage reclaim and sends silent thanks to Patrek and Kyra when they slip away.

“Hi.”

Theon smiles, keeping his eyes on the conveyor belt. “Alright.” Robb isn’t certain whether it's a question or not.

“It’s been… nice,” Robb coughs awkwardly, hand tightening on the handle of his suitcase, “spending more time with you.”

“I - One sec.” Theon pulls a suitcase from the belt and slides it over to where Kyra is standing by Olly, watching him root around his suitcase for something. When he’s done he turns, index finger giving Robb’s side a sly stroke and hooking into the front pocket of his shorts. The material is thin, leaving little between him and the touch of Theon’s hand. That and the look on his face gives him one hell of a rush too. “I had a lot of fun too,” he says in a husky voice and nips his lip.

Robb lets his tone turn serious. “Theon.”

Theon sighs, knowing where this is going. “Have we not had this conversation?” 

“Willas said…”

“I know what he said… but, I mean, have you even thought about this Robb?” Theon asks him, now stood back slightly, with one arm cross to hold the one opposite. “Are you still going to be interested when everyone knows? When there’s no more being able to sneak around? And you have to know word will spread.”

“I don’t care,” Robb tells him stubbornly.

Theon sucks in his lip. “You cared six days ago.”

“Things change.” Out of the corner of his eye, Robb catches sight of Olyvar zipping his bag back up, a yellow bottle in hand. They’re running out of time. “Ok, let's give it a week. It’s for you though - I’m always going to be interested.” He can see Theon is still unsure, so he leans in to whisper in his ear, “and it's not going to stop me needing to steal you away every now and again.” That has him grin.

Beginning to walk out of the hall, Theon eyes him carefully. “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok, if you’re this sure in a week's time, we can fess up…” He swallows visibly, but Robb chooses not to push it. “Are you going to tell your family?”

“Yeah,” Robb sighs, “I’ll find a way to… It’s going to be… Interesting.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Robb laughs as they stride into the bright light at arrivals. “You’ve never met them.”

“No,” Theon smiles with a touch of sadness, “but I’ve heard how you talk about them.”

He’s about to take Theon’s hand, but a glint of auburn hair in the crowd of people on the opposite side of the barrier catches his eye. Talk about tempting fate. “Sansa?” He asks far too quietly for her to hear, and picks up his speed to round the metal separating him from who is definitely his sister. “Sansa!”

Sansa smiles when he gets to her and puts her arms around him. 

“What are you doing here?” Robb laughs, baffled but pleased to see her nonetheless. “I’ve not even been gone a week! Wait, has something happened?” He pulls back to see her face properly.

“I, well, I…” she’s in the middle of trying to articulate herself when he senses someone standing next to them. Someone holding a bottle of lemon liqueur. 

“Hey,” Olly interrupts them, forcing them to separate and offering out the souvenir to _his baby sister,_ kisses her on the cheek, and gives her a brief half hug.

“Did you have a nice time?” She asks neither of them in particular, tapping her nails against the glass.

“ _Sansa,_ ” Robb hisses. 

She grimaces. “We didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you thought you’d ambush me in arrivals?” He swings to face Olyvar directly after reflecting on what he’s been told. “You said ‘a friend’.”

“It wasn’t a lie…?” Olyvar tries, having the decency to look sheepish. It was months ago that they’d bumped into Sansa in that bar.

“It’s the very definition of a white lie!” He thinks; he isn’t quite sure of the actual definition of a white lie, but this definitely is _something_ and it’s not telling the truth.

“ _Robb,”_ Sansa snaps right back at him, just like she might to their parents when they’re embarrassing her. “Stop. It’s not his fault. I asked him not to tell you.”

“What? Why?”

“Why do you think?” She has a point. “You have to open your eyes and realise I’m not sixteen anymore.”

“I - “ He’s struggling for what to say, but it doesn’t matter because he quickly loses Sansa’s attention, when he turns to see what’s caught it he finds Theon wearing a smirk. He sighs. “I’m sorry, Sans, you’re right.” At this admission, she looks back, eyes searching for a catch. “Olyvar’s a good guy.”

“I know.” She straightens her shoulders and pushes her hair back. “I wasn’t looking for your permission…”

“Hey,” Theon breaks the silence, holding out his hand, “Sansa, right? Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I -,” she takes it and tilts her head slightly to one side, “yes, that’s right. Sorry, I-”

Robb takes a deep breath. “This is, um, Theon,” he manages to get out and forces a nervous smile.

The thought process is clear on her face, her eyes drift from the charming smile Theon has pulled out, to Robb’s face which he assumes now has some colour to him, to the rest of their colleagues stood some distance away, and then to Olly who has set his gaze determinedly on his own toes.

“Oh,” her lips form an ‘O’ and Robb watches as her face lights up, “I was wondering when I’d finally meet you - or if even! Sorry, as long as I’m not misinterpreting.” She looks between them, double-checking just in case.

To one side, Theon huffs out a laugh, and to the other, he thinks Olyvar’s jaw might drop just a little before he speaks to his girlfriend. “How?”

“Pfft.” She laughs. “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Eva did ask for a secret relationship so why not have three? Sorry though, I realised while writing this I'd meant to include more Sansa and Olyvar hints in there.
> 
> Thanks for reading everyone! It's a bit crazy to have finally finished this, but also maybe a little mad that I'm only just now finishing at the end of November.
> 
> So, I guess the end of the holiday is quite open - I'm up for doing a follow up. Could be months down the lined and holiday season themed or something - drop me a prompt if you have one and I'll see what I can do 😘

**Author's Note:**

> Talk of this led [Evax3](http://Evax3.tumblr.com) to create wonderful art of Theon in a wet t-shirt (I know!) Please take a look [here](https://evax3.tumblr.com/post/622462834572509184/salty-wench-because-i-cant-stop-thinking-about?is_highlighted_post=1).
> 
> Comments much appreciated. Also, feel very welcome to say hi on [my new writing/asoiaf tumblr!](https://salty-wench.tumblr.com)


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